


What Consumes Us

by queenxxxsupreme



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Biker AU, F/M, The Witcher AU, biker!Geralt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23578195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenxxxsupreme/pseuds/queenxxxsupreme
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	1. One

Romina’s eyes snapped open and she tried to suck in a breath of air but couldn’t. There was something over her mouth, preventing her from breathing. Her eyes widened in an attempt to see something, anything in the pitch black. 

Her heart was racing in her ears, pounding furiously as if it were trying to free itself from her rib cage. She moved around a little and tried to move her hands. Something was binding them together. She could move them but only at the same.

A thin layer of sweat had found its way to her skin, causing her brunette hair to cling to her. Hot tears fell from her eyes in trails down her cheeks. Her cries were dulled and screams muffled by the gag.

This was how she was going to die. 

_Two Hours Earlier  
9:23p.m._

_“Rome, are you even listening to me?”_

_Romina turned her head to look at her best friend, Jaskier. He walked alongside her, chatting about some costume he had to design for one of his classes._

_“Erm, yeah, Jask. I’m listening.” She nodded her head._

_“Oh. Okay. Alright. What did I just say?” He raised his brows._

_Romina opened her mouth to answer but she didn’t know what to say. In truth, she wasn’t listening to him._

_“Exactly my point. What’s on your mind?”_

_“Tomorrow, I start my new job.” She sighed heavily._

_“Oh, at that bar in downtown, right?”_

_“Aretuza.” Romina nodded her head. “The owner knows mom. Mom reached out to her.”_

_“What are you nervous for?” Jaskier smiled brightly at a group of women who passed, offering them all his best flirty smile._

_“She knew my dad.” Romina’s voice lowered. “The owner, her name is Tissaia de Vries. She knew my dad.”_

_“Oh.” Jaskier turned his attention back to her, fixing the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Knew him? How?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Like…._ knew _knew him?”_

_Romina looked over to him, unsure of what to say._

_“Do you think she’s bad news?”_

_“Anyone who knows my father is bad news.” She sighed out. “But I need this job, Jask.”_

_“I know you do, love.” He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a firm side hug as they continued to walk._

_Romina came to a stop at a crosswalk. If they continued straight, they’d be to her apartment in under five minutes. But if they went left, they’d get to Jaskier’s apartment in a little more than eight minutes._

_“Jask, you don’t have to walk me home tonight.” She looked to him. His brows drew together._

_“I don’t mind, Rome.”_

_“No, really. It’s okay. I need some time to think.” She offered him a soft smile. “I appreciate it though.”_

_He sighed out, clearly not liking the thought of her walking home alone._

_“Text me when you get home.” He pulled her in for a hug and then kissed her forehead. “Everything will be fine tomorrow, love. Don’t worry about it.”_

_“Thanks, Jaskier.” She smiled. As he took a few steps away from her, he waved. She waved back then watched as he started to walk in the direction of his apartment._

_Taking a deep breath, Romina started home. She hummed quietly to herself, letting her mind wander._

_It was peaceful to walk alone at night. The usually crowded streets were devoid of people and vehicles in a hurry to get where they needed to be. The air was cool and chilly for the early fall but Romina didn’t mind._

_The peace didn’t last for long. Something in her stomach stirred. It made her uncomfortable and uneasy. The sound of heavy footsteps behind her made her heart beat a little faster. She knew it was nothing but her nerves getting the best of her. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her._

_Chancing a glance over her shoulder just to make sure it was her nerves, Romina could see two men. Their hands were stuffed into their pockets and they wore hoods over their head._

_Just as she turned her head to look back at the path ahead of her, she saw a third man. There was something shiny in his hand, a metal pipe of some sort. The object came down to collide with her forehead._

Now  
11:48p.m.

Romina couldn’t think straight. Her mind was running a million miles an hour. 

She was going to die. What was the last thing she said to her mother? To her sister? How would they remember her? How could she be so stupid to not let Jaskier walk her home? It was just a few blocks away from his apartment. It wasn’t entirely out of his way.

Whatever she was in rattled and there was a loud bang. Romina recognized the sound. It was a car door being shut. She was in a trunk. Muffled voices could be heard talking.

The trunk opened and hands reached for her. Romina kicked and screamed but both weren’t as effective as she wanted them to be. 

“Shit! You wench!” The man cursed as she landed a solid blow to his stomach.

Another one stepped forward and grabbed her ankles, holding them so she could no longer kick. She was dragged from the trunk by her ankle. None of the half dozen men standing around her made an effort to grab her before she could hit the ground.

The air was expelled from her lungs as she hit the pavement. Black specks dotted her vision.

“You’re gonna fucking kill her before Cahir gets here.” One of the men muttered.

Romina squeezed her eyes shut, but not before seeing a man kneel down next to her. The gag was pulled from her mouth and left to hang around her neck. The man’s hand was placed over her mouth before she had a chance to cry for help.

“Open your eyes, Ms. Romina.”

The tears in her eyes blurred her vision until she blinked them away. He knew her name. How did he know her name?

The light was dim but as her eyes adjusted, she could see the man above her. His eyes were piercing blue and his skin the color of warm honey.

“If I remove my hand, you can’t scream. Nod your head if you understand.”

Romina shakily nodded her head. The man pulled his hand away just a little to check that she wouldn’t scream. Her lips parted but only in an effort to breathe easier. 

There was a brief moment where she gazed into the man’s intense blue eyes. He would be the last thing she saw before she died.

A thunderous roar came from somewhere behind the man. She had heard it before. It was something not easily forgotten. It was the sound of a motorcycle revving. There was a split second where Romina relaxed. The sound brought back memories of her father. But then she remembered he was gone. He couldn’t save her. 

There was a loud bang that echoed through the air, sounding over the motorcycle. She squeezed her eyes shut. 

When nothing happened, Romina opened her eyes. The man who had pulled the gag from her mouth stood with his back to her.

“The hell are you doing here, Witcher?” The man spoke.

“This has nothing to do with you.” Another added.

Romina sat up and scooted back until her shoulders hit the back bumper to the car she was just pulled from. From her new position, she could see the backs of the men who had kidnapped her. They weren’t facing her, no longer concerned about their victim. 

Two of them had drawn knives while a third had a handgun lowered in his hand pointing towards the ground. He had fired a warning shot in the air in an attempt to scare off whoever had the motorcycle. Romina could see a marking on the inside of his wrist. It was a tattoo of a sun colored in with black ink. 

“It doesn’t look like she willingly climbed into the trunk.” A gruff and deep voice observed. 

Romina brought her bound hands up to rub her eyes clear of tears. 

Standing about three yards away from the man who had freed her of the gag was a much taller and bulkier man. A lamp light shined behind him, illuminating him like some sort of angel. He wore a fitting leather jacket zipped up all the way and dark jeans, probably black. His hands were by his sides. He wore fingerless gloves. His colorless white hair was half tied back to stay out of his face but a few strands fell free. 

A fallen angel. That’s what he resembled. 

“What are you doing, Istredd?” The white haired man asked. His voice was deep and gruff. He sounded almost bored with the situation. 

Romina sniffled and looked down to her hands. While the men were distracted, maybe she could get away. 

“Cahir wants her.” The man who relieved her of the gag spoke. 

“Cahir has no reason to want her. Release her.”

Romina managed to rip the duct tape around her wrists with her teeth. Ignoring the burning sensation of her skin being practically ripped off, she freed her hands and hastily pushed herself to her feet. Her knees were weak and wobbly. She succeeded in only getting a few steps before a firm arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her off of her feet. 

“Let me go!” She cried, kicking her feet and scratching at his arm. 

The man was suddenly gone and she was falling to the ground. She landed on her side, catching herself on her hands and elbows. She stayed there for a moment, her head hanging as she caught herself and fought the urge to vomit.

She opened her eyes to see a pair of worn black leather boots just a few feet away from her. Thinking this was one of her kidnappers, she kicked for his groin. He saw the move coming and grabbed her ankle before she could make contact with the extremely sensitive area between his legs. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, woman.” He muttered, releasing her ankle.

Breathing heavily and with tears still making their way down her cheeks, she looked up to see the white haired man staring down at her. His brows were knit together just slightly. A mixture of concern and irritation filled his features.

“Who-Who are you?” Her voice was raspy.

“That doesn’t matter. Come on.” He held his hand out for her. 

Romina looked down at his hand. It was massive and unfriendly, matching the brooding man it belonged to. 

Worried about those who had attempted to kidnap her, she looked around for them. Two were laying a few dozen feet away on the pavement, seemingly unconscious. A third was laying on the hood of the car used to abduct her. The windshield was cracked and splintered, caving in under his weight. A fourth was slumped against the brick wall to a building that rested on one side of the alley. The last two men, one of which was the one who released her of her gag, were no where to be seen. 

It looked as if everything within a few feet of herself and the white haired man had been blown back by an unseen force.

Romina looked back to her rescuer.

“What happened to them?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. He was surprisingly strong, showing no difficult when he had to practically haul her to her feet. Her knees were trembling and she didn’t think she could support herself. She was right. The second the man let her go and started to move away, she almost collapsed.

“Damn it.” He grunted as he caught her, his wrapping not to smoothly around her waist. 

“I-I’m-I’m sorry.” She sputtered out, her hand latching on to his leather-clad forearm. “I-I just-I’m-I can’t-,” 

“It’s okay.” He cut her off, saving her the hassle of having to get complete sentences out of her still panicking mind. “Why are you walking alone at night in this part of town?”

“I-I always walk home.” She whispered. Her voice was raspy and shaky. “But usually my friend walks with me.”

“Perhaps you should reconsider walking alone in the dark.”

Romina nodded her head and took a deep breath. She finally felt like she had herself under control, like maybe she’d be able to walk on her own. As she tried to step away from the man, he didn’t let her go.

“If you fall again, I won’t be picking you up off the sidewalk.” He told her. She turned her head to look up at him but he looked away from her like he didn’t want her to see his face. “You’re walking home?”

She nodded softly, bringing her eyes down to the sidewalk. Why did he want to know?

Sensing her hesitation, the man spoke again.

“I only ask because they will be sending more men after you if you’re found anywhere near those four.” The man nodded in the direction of the unconscious assailants. 

“Who are they?”

“Members of the Black Sun.”

The Black Sun. Romina had heard of them before. They were a ruthless organized gang that trafficked drugs and weapons into Cintra from Temeria, supplying other criminals and making a profit off of it. Romina wasn’t entirely sure what else they did, but she heard through gossip and rumors that they also dabbled in fraud of some sort. 

“Where do you live?” 

Romina furrowed her brows together and looked up at him. She didn’t like that question. The man met her gaze and pressed his lips together in a firm line, letting out a heavy sigh through his nose.

“I want to know so that I can take you home and ensure you get there without running into them again.”

“I don’t need you to take me home.” Romina pulled his hand off of her and stepped away. She wasn’t as shaky this time as she had been before. 

“Right.” He nodded his head. “Like you didn’t need me to save you from them.”

“You know them.” She stepped away from him, shaking her head. “You knew the one’s name.”

The man was growing frustrated. He sighed again through his nose and moved towards the black Harley Davidson Softail Slim that was parked across the street. He stopped just before stepping out into the road, allowing a car to pass. 

For a moment, the headlights lit him up and Romina could get a good look at him. His skin was pale and his face appeared littered with scars. There was a hardened look to him that she couldn’t see in the dark, a look that made him frightening. 

But he just saved her from those gangbangers. Surely he wouldn’t save her only to cause her harm himself. 

“Hey! Wait!” Romina moved towards him, seeing the attacker on the hood of the car begin to stir. He groaned and his fingers twitched. 

Not wanting to chance being there when they woke up, Romina moved quickly to cross the street after the stranger. He turned back to her. 

“You’ve changed your mind?”

“Yeah.” Romina muttered, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Just…. Just walk me home, please. I don’t want to get on that with you.” She looked down at his motorcycle. 

“Where do you live?”

“In the apartment building on Tanwen.” 

He fell silent, obviously debating on whether or not he wanted to walk that far. It was only a ten minute walk, give or take. Instead of sighing this time, he grunted from deep within his chest. 

He turned and started to walk away from Romina. She moved briskly to catch up to him. Her legs were shorter which required her to take quicker steps than his long legs. 

“Are you scared of them?” He asked, raising his brow just slightly.

“Hardly.” She answered firmly. “I just don’t trust you.”

He grunted again. 

“That’s wise of you.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Romina looked over to him. He kept his eyes straight ahead, refusing to look at her. 

“No.”

His answer brought her no comfort. She was stupid to trust him. But it was either one man or a group of men that belonged to one of the most notorious gangs in Cintra. 

***

The rest of the ten minute walk to Romina’s apartment was silent. She didn’t feel comfortable talking and he didn’t feel a need to speak. 

He stopped just before he would step into the circle of light cast down by one of the lamps outside of the apartment building. Romina noticed this and didn’t stop until she was across the circle of light from him. Then she turned to face him and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Thank you for…. for walking me home.” Her words were quiet.

He offered her a soft nod of his head once, then turned and crossed the street. Romina’s eyes followed him, curious about the odd, quiet stranger. 

A van passed just as he reached the other side of the street. Romina’s eyes were taken away from him for a split second by the vehicle. The moment it was gone, her stomach tightened and twisted into knots. The man was gone. He was nowhere to be seen across the street. Surely he didn’t just disappear into thin air. 

A chill traveled through her spine at the thought of what had happened earlier. She had been taken by members of the Black Sun. 

Romina found herself sprinting up to the front door of her apartment building. She quickly typed in her access code and when the door jolted open, she slipped in and pulled it shut behind herself. From there, she ran. Not bothering to use the elevator, she bolted up three flights of stairs to get to the floor her apartment was on. 

***

The front door was slammed shut. She made quick work to slide the chain lock into place and then twisted the deadbolt. Hearing the loud click of the lock sliding into place gave her some relief. 

She turned around, taking a moment to lean against the door. Her heart was echoing in her ears. She tried to steady her breathing. However, her lungs couldn’t take in oxygen quick enough to keep her from panicking. 

Hot tears of anxiety and fear stung her eyes. 

She could’ve died tonight, had it not been for the white haired stranger. 


	2. Two

Anxiety swirled in Romina’s stomach the same way angry clouds often moved in the sky just before a storm. She clutched the strap to her back tighter and repositioned it on her shoulder. 

Aretuza was closed. It opened at 11a.m. but closed at five for two hours to prepare for the busy evening crowds. The text message she received from Tissaia de Vries told her to go around to the back. There would be a door labeled employees only. She could enter through there. 

Romina mentally cursed at herself for thinking this was a good idea. Everyone who knew anything about Cintra knew that it’s most notorious gang, the Hellcats, operated out of Aretuza. 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she made her way down the alley that separated Aretuza from the little shop next door. Romina pulled the device out to see her mother was calling her.

“Mom, I’m sort of a little busy right now.”

“I just wanted to tell you good luck before you start work, and I want you to know that I think this is a good step for you.”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” Romina rolled her eyes. “Working at the same bar a cult works out of is such a good step. You’re always telling me that I should stay away from the cult life. You always hated that dad was a part of one.”

“I’m not talking about your father right now, Romina. Besides, Tissaia is a good person. She helps people.”

“Didn’t the Hellcats claim responsibility for a shooting last week over on Lesna Street?” Romina slowed down as she approached the back of the bar. She spotted the door with employees only on it. “Mom, I’m going to be late.”

“I’ll let you go, love, but just be safe and don’t get an attitude with Tissaia. I love you, Romina.”

“Love you too, mom.” Romina sighed as she ended the call. “I don’t have an attitude.” 

***

The room she walked into looked like some sort of break room. There were a few circular tables with chairs around them. Against the far corner were two leather sofas and a television. 

Romina jumped at the sound of a locker door being slammed. She turned her head to see a little hallway to her left that led to a locker room of some sort. 

“You’re a little jumpy.” A dark haired woman commented as she approached Romina. 

She wore a black wrap dress with a deep V in the neck. Her dress came up just a couple inches above her knees. Black heels added three inches to her height. Her dark hair fell in loose curls over her shoulders. Her eyes were violet, matching her dark purple lipstick. 

“I’m looking for Tissaia de Vries.” Romina told her. The woman nodded her head, looking Romina over.

“You’re the new girl, aren’t you? Romina, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” She smiled and brushed pieces of her brunette hair behind her ear. 

“I can take you to Tissaia.” The woman turned and started to lead the way out of the break room. She took Romina down a little hallway and stopped at a door labeled ‘Rectress.’ The woman knocked three times on the door. 

“Come in.” A voice spoke from the other side. 

“Good luck.” The woman smiled at Romina, though it seemed fake, and opened the door to the office. 

Romina stepped in, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. 

“Have a seat, Romina.” The woman at the desk gestured to the empty chair in front of her desk. As Romina sat down, the woman introduced herself. “I am Tissaia de Vries. I run Aretuza.”

Tissaia was just as stunning as the first woman Romina ran into. Her brunette hair was tied back in a neat bun at the top of her head. She wore a white turtle neck and a pair of black skinny jeans with black heeled ankle boots. A dark red blazer rested on the back of her seat. 

“Hi, um, I’m Romina. But…. but you already knew that.”

Tissaia nodded her head softly. 

“I won’t spend too much time right now going over how we work here. I just wanted to welcome you here and wish you luck on your first night.” The smile on her lips was soft but for some reason, it made Romina uncomfortable. “I’d like to see you back here at close.”

***

The Witcher stepped into Aretuza, pulling the hood off of his head. As he took his gloves off, he briefly looked around the mostly empty bar. It was just before seven so the bar wasn’t technically open. 

At the bar sat a group of three women who Geralt identified as Triss, Sabrina, and Yennefer.

Something moved off to the left of him. Turning his head, Geralt spotted a familiar brunette leaning over a table, wiping it down. Her skintight jeans clung to her curves. A black leather belt wrapped around her waist. The Witcher silently wondered if she actually needed the belt or if it was just for looks. A black silk button down was tucked into the waist of her pants. A few of the top buttons were left open to reveal the soft curves of her bust. Black heeled booties added about four inches to her height.

“You know, you’ve got a staring problem.” Yennefer told him as he approached the bar. When she saw him moving towards the bar, she broke away from the group she had been talking to.

Geralt said nothing as he took a seat on a barstool. Yennefer retrieved a beer and passed it to him. As she did so, she leaned across the bar so she could be closer to him.

“She’s the daughter of the Bishop.” The ebony haired bartender nodded in the direction of Romina.

“I know.” He muttered, lifting the bottle of alcohol to his lips.

“Tissaia didn’t say much about her.” Yennefer sighed. “Just that she moved back home to be with her mother after Bishop passed.”

Geralt had no intentions of talking about Romina so he remained silent.

“You were close to Bishop. Did he ever mention a daughter?”

“No one was close to the Bishop.” Geralt shook his head just slightly. “He didn’t care to discuss his personal life.”

“That sounds like a load of bullshit.” Yennefer rolled her violet eyes. “All Bishop ever did was talk. Surely he mentioned her once.”

Geralt tilted his head to the side just a little. His eyes narrowed as his brows drew together.

“Why do you care, Yennefer?”

The woman held his gaze, leaning against the bar with her hands. When he didn’t look away first, she did. Before she could say anything, someone down the bar called her name. She sighed heavily and pushed herself away from the Witcher at the bar.

Geralt watched her leave and then focused his gaze on the pool table in the back corner of the bar.

A few minutes later, Yennefer returned to stand in front of him. She crossed her arms and leaned against the black marble bar top.

“The power radiating from her is…. unbelievable.”

Geralt leaned back and grunted. He almost rolled his eyes.

“Yenn-,”

“Don’t ‘Yenn’ me.” She cut him off. “Tissaia knows we are struggling right now to keep the Suns out of our territory. They’re stealing clients left and right, and slaughtering us every day. Our numbers are dwindling.”

“You aren’t the only ones. The Witchers are few and far between.” Geralt reminded her. “It’s just how things work. The old die off and dismantle, and new ones take their place.”

“You’re kind might be dying off, but I’ll be damned if the Hellcats follow.”

“Why would Tissaia bring in another mage from the outside? Especially one that doesn’t know she’s a mage?”

“Because she is powerful.” Yennefer nodded to Romina.

“So are you.”

“Yes, but hers is different than mine.” Yennefer’s gaze found the woman, who was now sweeping the floor.

The witcher glanced over his shoulder, amber eyes finding Romina. Her lips moved as she sang along to the music. It was Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple.

“Because her mother is a source.”

“Who’s mother is a source?” Triss asked as she joined the duo at the bar.

“Romina’s mother.” Yennefer answered, keeping her eyes on Geralt. She stood up straight, resting her hands on the edge of the bar. “I thought you said the Bishop never spoke of his private life.”

“He didn’t. I can sense her strength. It’s similar to Cirilla’s but not as controlled.”

Silence fell between the trio. Triss found herself gazing at the newest addition to Aretuza.

Romina could feel eyes on her. She quit sweeping and brushed her long brown locks out of her face. Brown eyes scanned the bar in search of whoever was watching her. When she spotted Triss, she smiled softly and waved. Triss waved back and then motioned for her to join them.

Romina leaned the broom against an empty table. As she approached the end of the bar, her eyes found the white haired man sitting across from the two ladies. Her heart raced violently in her chest. Why was this man here? How did he know where she worked? Did he follow her?

Romina felt a little uneasy approaching the small group. Even without the man, Yennefer was intimidating. Triss, however, was friendly. She’d been the only one to make Romina feel welcomed. 

“Hi, Romina.” Triss greeted her.

“Hey, Triss.” Romina came to stand off to the white haired man’s side.

Geralt didn’t look in her direction but he could feel her eyes on him.

“We were just talking about you.” Yennefer leaned against the bar. “Tissaia doesn’t bring in just anyone-,”

“Yennefer.” Geralt cut her off. The mage didn’t mind him.

“I’m just curious how she found a little thing like yourself.” Yennefer ignored the Witcher.

Romina looked from Yennefer to Triss and then to the man she still didn’t know the name of. He wasn’t looking at her.

“Um, she knows, um, Tissaia knows my father and my mother.” Romina nodded her head, bringing her eyes back to Yennefer. It wasn’t until after she spoke that she realized she made a mistake. “I-I’m sorry. She knew my father.”

Yennefer gave her a tight smile before pushing herself away from the bar to go down to a few customers calling for her.

“Don’t mind her.” Triss took Yennefer’s spot, leaning against the bar. “She means no harm. It just takes a little while for her to get used to you.”

Romina nodded just a little.

“What did you do to your forehead?” Triss reached across the bar. Her hand gently clasped Romina’s chin and turned her head so she could examine the angry bruise and healing cut that had been caused by those who tried to kidnap her the previous night.

“I fell.” Romina answered a little too quickly, her eyes hastily darting over to the man just an arm’s length away. He didn’t acknowledge her. Romina was thankful for this.

“Better be more careful, love.” Triss frowned. “Tissaia doesn’t like when we look roughed up. She’s a little obsessive over appearance.”

“Oh, I can sort of tell.” Romina awkwardly laughed, looking around the bar.

It looked nothing like the biker bars in the movies looked. This one was refined and elegant. The bar and table tops were black marble. The hardwood floor was a deep brown chestnut. There were mirrors behind the alcohol behind the bar and simple but beautiful lights hung from the ceiling. 

“Triss!” Yennefer called for the mage.

“Excuse me.” Triss smiled at Romina before making her way down to Yennefer.

Romina went to retrieve the broom she was using. She glanced up at the man sitting at the bar. His back was to her. The back of his leather jacket had a logo on it, one she’d seen before. It was an odd wolf bearing its teeth. That was the logo for the Witchers, the gang her father had been a part of. Above the wolf head in white letters was ‘The Butcher.’ Underneath the wolf was ‘Of Blaviken.’ 

Blaviken. Romina had heard that name before but she couldn’t remember where. 

She tapped the bottom of the broom against the floor a few times before moving around the bar counter to put the items in a back room. As she came out, she caught the man lookeding at her. She glanced over to see where the two mages were. They were at the opposite end of the bar with a group of three individuals.

Letting out a soft breath, Romina moved to stand a little further down the bar than the stranger. She leaned her elbows against the bar and rubbed her hands over the cold marble.

“Are you following me?” She raised a brow, looking to him out of the corner of her eyes.

“Hardly.” He snorted, bringing the beer in his hand up to his lips.

She took a few moments to study him. He wasn’t all that frightening in the lighting of the bar. He was rugged, for sure, but handsome.

“I’m Romina.”

“I know.”

She almost rolled her eyes.

“Usually a gentleman tells a woman his name when she tells him hers.”

His eyes flickered over to meet yourshers. She gasped softly at the vibrant amber color of his irises. She never noticed them before.

“I’m no gentleman.”

Romina looked down, messing with her fingers. 

“Have you seen anyone of the Suns today?”

Romina turned her head to look at the white haired stranger out of the corner of her eyes. 

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I’m only curious.”

Romina held his gaze, biting her bottom lip. 

He was a Witcher. She knew very little about Witchers. What she did know, she learned from her estranged father, who had piercing amber eyes that had seen far too much. This man before her, the one who had saved her the night prior and the one who refused to share his name, had the same gaze. Perhaps it was a Witcher thing.

“You must’ve known my father, if you’re apart of the Witchers.”

He tilted his head just a little, not caring to speak.

This frustrated Romina. She sighed heavily and pushed herself away from him.

“You make terrible company, Witcher.” Romina glanced to at him out of the corner of her eyes. 

“My kind doesn’t make good company.” He met her gaze, looking up at her through his lashes.

“So I’ve learned.” Romina mumbled. 

She looked back to the white haired man, who had his hands focused on his knuckles. She decided to quit pestering him. If he didn’t want to talk, she cwouldn’t make him.

***

The night was long and busy. Romina was too occupied her entire shift bussing tables that she didn’t see where or when the white haired man disappeared, but he was gone by last call.

Romina shrugged on her jacket and began to zip it up.

“Hey, Romie?” Triss called from the door of the break room.

Romina poked her head around the lockers and smiled at the mage. The nickname had quickly spread after opening for the night. Triss started it and the other workers within Aretuza quickly took to it. 

“Just a reminder that Tissaia wants to speak with you before you go.”

“Thanks, Triss.”

Her phone vibrated in her hand. It was a text from Jaskier.

From: Jaskier

<”I’m out here when you’re done.”>

After Romina told him about what happened with the members of the Black Sun, he insisted on taking her home and making sure she got to her apartment without any trouble.

To: Jaskier

<”I’ll be just a minute.”>

Romina tucked her phone into the back pocket of her pants and picked up her bag. She threw it over her shoulder before leaving the break room. Just down the hall in the opposite direction from the bar was an emergency exit. To the left of the exit was a black door with a window that allowed one to look into the office of Tissaia’s. 

She tucked in her shirt, having just untucked it after the lights went out on the floor of the bar went outr. She approached the already opened door to the Rectress’ office and knocked on the frame.

Tissaia sat behind a cherry oak wood desk. She lifted her head and placed the pen in her hand down.

“Come in, Romina. Close the door behind you and have a seat.”

Romina did as told then took a seat in one of the seats in front of Tissaia’s desk.

“I just want you to know I am so thankful for-,”

“Spare the formalities, Romina.” Tissaia folded her hands on the desk. “I asked you to stay because I want to tell you what I expect from you. I’ve got notes from the other girls who have things, both good and bad, to say about your first day.”

Romina blinked as her mind processed what she was being told.

“Let’s get started.” Tissaia moved a few papers on her desk around. “Aretuza isn’t just another biker bar, Romina. It has class. It has elegance. You’ve heard of Calanthe Riannon, have you not?”

“I have.”

“Do you know what business she partakes in?”

Romina shook her head. She’d heard stories, but she wasn’t willing to say anything out loud and risk being fired.

“Well, we can discuss that later.” Tissaia sighed gently.

“I-I know it’s illegal.” Romina spoke quickly. She didn’t want Tissaia to think she was stupid, that she didn’t know anything.

Tissaia held Romina’s gaze, tilting her chin up just a little.

“I’d be more careful saying that outside of these walls.”

“I-I’m not ignorant, Ms. dDe Vries.” Romina shook her head. “I know she runs the Hellcats and I know…. I know this is like their homebase.”

“Then you know that by taking this job, you are accepting a position within the Hellcats.” Tissaia stated. Romina hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands. “Emmaline told me that you were in desperate need of a steady income, Romina.”

Upon hearing her mother’s name, the brunette lifted her head to look at Tissaia.

“How about you don’t think about any of the unsavory things that come with this once in a life time chance you’ve been offered? At least for now.”

Romina’s mouth was dry. She nodded her head stiffly. She did need the money. She needed a steady job. She could always find another one but for now, Aretuza would have to do.

“Geralt told me of what happened last night.”

Romina furrowed her eyebrows together, bringing her gaze up to meet Tissaia’s.

“Who?”

“Geralt. The man who stopped you from being kidnapped by the Black Sun.”

“Geralt.” She repeated. The name felt foreign on her tongue but it fit the brooding and strange man. “He…. What did he tell you?”

“Everything I needed to know.” Tissaia answered flatly. “Let’s begin with what was said about your work today.”

Romina swallowed the lump in her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“ _’She worked hard and did a fantastic job keeping up with the crowd.’”_

The brunette smiled proudly at the compliment.

“’ _She’s a little too quiet and timid for Aretuza. But she didn’t fall behind bussing tables._ ’” Tissaia glanced up to Romina to gauge her reaction. Romina looked down when Tissaia’s blue eyes fell on her. “’ _I don’t think she fits into Aretuza. She’s way too shy._ ’”

As Tissaia continued to read what the veterans of Aretuza had to say about the newbie, the same thing kept coming up. Romina was too shy, too quiet. She didn’t make a mark on anyone.

“In all fairness, ma’am, this is an entirely new place to me.” Romina shook her head gently. “And-And it’s quite intimidating.”

“It can be, but only if you let it intimidate you.” Tissaia put the paper down. “Romina, I believe there’s always room for improvement in oneself. You did a good job dressing for tonight. Black and classy is what we aim for. No skirts that are too short or too revealing of tops. I’m not running a strip club. Heels are a must of for my girls. The ones you wore tonight worked. You got to see how my girls were dressed tonight. You know my expectations from here on out. I want to see an improvement onin your attire.”

“Done.” Romina nodded. “I have plenty of clothes that would work.”

“Good. Tomorrow, I’d like to see you more open and more lively. I’ve heard from Emmaline that you are outgoing. You aren’t the quiet little mouse we saw today.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s late and I’d like you back early tomorrow. Does noon work for you?”

It was pushing four a.m. already. She’d be home by 4:30 and maybe be asleep by five.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

Tissaia watched as Romina disappeared through the door. The Rectress took a soft deep breath and shuffled a few papers into a neat pile.

“She’s going to end up dead.”

Tissaia lifted her head to see the Witcher standing in the doorway to her office. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket. His gaze was hard and irritated.

“She’s weak. She wouldn’t last a day on the street as one of your mages.”

“She is weak in that sense, yes.” Tissaia held his gaze. “But she is much more powerful than anything we’ve ever seen. Perhaps even more powerful than Cirilla.”

Geralt grunted and tilted his head to the side just a little. Being that Cirilla was the granddaughter to the Lioness, Calanthe, who ran the Hellcats, Calanthe wouldn’t allow Cirilla to be used against the rising threat of the Black Sun.

“You can’t use Cirilla against Cahir, so you plan to pull an innocent girl into this life.”

Tissaia said nothing for a while. She looked down at the paper before her that contained Romina’s history.

“I don’t pay you to judge my decisions, Geralt. I pay you to keep Romina safe and out of harm’s way.” The Rectress’ voice was quiet but stern. “Her survival is essential to ours. If Cahir gets ahold of her, he could kill her or use her against us. Either way we would be doomed.”

Geralt’s hands fell from the pockets of his jacket and he let out a heavy sigh. He turned to leave.

“Have a good night, Geralt. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He grunted in reply while Tissaia smiled just slightly.

***

Romina made her way down the alley next to the bar. Her stomach churned and nausea swarmed her. Thinking she was hungry, she dug around in her bag for the chips she knew she stuffed in there earlier in the day.

“No wonder you were almost kidnapped.”

Romina came to a sudden stop, her heart jumping into her throat at the sound of the Witcher. Her hand came up to her chest. She could feel her heart beating beneath her palm.

Geralt stood leaning against the door that was a fire exit leading into the bar. One booted foot was propped up against the door. His arms were crossed. 

“What is that suppose supposed to mean?” Romina pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

“It doesn’t surprise me that you were kidnapped. You didn’t even notice me.”

“Because I wasn’t looking.” She continued on down the alley, walking straight pass ed him. He came down the three steps and started walking behind her. The sound of his heavy footsteps, for whatever reason, made her heart race even more. Maybe it was because this man was huge and hulking, and if he really wanted to, he could cause her harm. 

“Would you like some advise?” It almost sounded like he was being sarcastic.

“Oh, I’d love advise from you. Quiet, brooding Witcher who only half ass answers questions.”

“Are you pissed because I wouldn’t tell you my name?” 

“Just a little pissed that you leave or ignore me when I try to get answers.” Romina came to a sudden stop and turned to face him. She didn’t expect him to be so close, but they ended up standing almost toe to toe. 

She refused to back up, to let him think he intimidated her.

“Have you been following me?” Brown eyes looked up at him. There was a fire in her gaze, one he hadn’t seen the day before. 

“No, I haven’t.” He answered calmly. “You’re paranoid. It’s common for victims of kidnapping to be paranoid.”

Romina shook her head firmly, turning to leave the alley. 

“I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.” Still, he followed her. 

“What’s the advisece you wanted to share with me?” Romina sighed out. She made it out of the alley first since Geralt walked behind her. She could spot Jaskier’s car across the street from Aretuza. 

Without looking both ways, Romina stepped off into the street. She was too eager to get to the safety of her friend’s car. She couldn’t explain her reasoning, but she felt someone watching her. She’d felt that way since she stepped out of the bar.

Geralt’s hand wrapped around her arm and he pulled her back on to the sidewalk just as a car zoomed by. The wind from the vehicle blew Romina’s hair into her face. 

“Watch where you’re going is a good start.” Geralt released her arm. She glanced over her shoulder at him, brushing her hair out of her eyes before she crossed the street.

As she put her hand on the handle to the passenger door, she looked over her shoulder. Geralt stood on the sidewalk where she left him, looking at her.


	3. Three

“Who is that?” Jaskier furrowed his brows together as he looked at the strange man watching Romina.

“Some guy who hangs around the bar.” Romina threw her bag into the back seat and started to buckle. Jaskier was still looking at the man, who refused to move from where he stood. “Jask, come on. Just go.”

“How was your first day?” He put the car into drive. 

“My feet hurt like hell. And I can’t _not_ wear heels so I may as well just say good bye to comfort for the rest of my life.” Romina stretched her legs out as much as she could in the car and put her head back. “Do you think I’m making a bad choice? Working at Aretuza?”

“I think…. I think it can be if you let it be one.” He briefly glanced over to her. “But just because that Calanthe Riannon lady has ties to the place doesn’t mean you need to join a gang or anything.”

Romina stayed quiet. She didn’t want to say anything she shouldn’t say and chance being taken out by someone in the Hellcats. Paranoia was already eating away at her. Tissaia had practically said she was in the Hellcats, hadn’t she?

Romina’s phone buzzed in the pocket of her jacket. She sighed as she pulled the device out. It was a text from Triss. The two had exchanged numbers on their break earlier in the night. 

**From: Triss Marigold  
<”Me and Yenn are having breakfast at the diner around the block from Aretuza at nine. You should come with us.”>**

Romina groaned loudly, closing her eyes as she out her hand over her face.

“What is it?”

“One of the girls I work with just invited me to breakfast at nine.”

“Do they not know you worked until just a few minutes ago?” Jaskier furrowed his brows together.

“They worked the same shift as me.” Romina rubbed her eyes. She was anxious to get the makeup off. 

“Are you going to go?”

“Yeah, probably.” She didn’t want to say no. She needed to make more friends, honestly. And saying no was something she sometimes had difficulty doing.

Jaskier huffed and shook his head. 

“Good luck with that.”

***

_Romina. Romina._

The sound of Geralt’s voice caused her to jolt awake. A thin layer of sweat caused her hair to cling to her forehead. Her breathing was uncontrollable as she sat up. She placed her hand over her heart to ensure it was beating still. It, in fact, was beating very rapidly within the confines of her rib cage. 

She reached over to turn the lamp by her bed on. She heard his voice. Why was he in her room?

Wide and frantic brown eyes searched the expanse of her bedroom, praying that she was alone. 

The room was empty. She was by herself. 

Romina rested back against her pillows, staring at the ceiling. Why did she hear his voice? Did she dream about him? Why would she dream about him? 

She ran her hands over her face, groaning softly. 

***

Romina slid into the booth next to Triss.

“Good morning, Romie!” The mage chirped. 

“How do you have so much energy after last night?” Romina furrowed her eyebrows together. 

“You get used to the long hours and short time to sleep.” 

“Did you enjoy your first day at Aretuza?” Yennefer raised a brow as she stirred sugar into her coffee. 

“I did.” Romina nodded her head, offering the intimidating woman a little smile.

“What did Tissaia want to talk to you about last night?” 

“Yenn, that’s none of our business.” Triss spoke quietly.

“I believe it is.” Yennefer looked to the mage across from her. “She’s one of us now. We don’t know if we can trust her. Hell! We don’t know why Tissaia brought her in to begin with.”

“I-I just needed a job.” Romina looked between the two women. Triss looked down at the mug of tea in front of her while Yennefer gazed at Romina as if she sprung two heads. 

“Tissaia doesn’t just bring in someone because they need a new job.” Yennefer’s tone was harsh. “The last person she hired was Vilgefortz and he’s been with us for nearly six years.”

“Leave it be, Yennefer.” Triss told her. “Do you have any questions, Romie?”

Romina smiled softly at the nickname. Triss was the only one at Aretuza who showed Romina kindness, who wasn’t harsh or didn’t deliver backhanded compliments. 

As a waitress came over, she ordered a coffee then watched the woman leave. She looked back to see Triss and Yennefer looked at her. She took a deep breath and folded her hands into her lap. 

“I’ll figure things out eventually.” Romina was too afraid to ask questions, too afraid that she’d say something wrong. “How long have you two been at Aretuza?”

“I’ve worked there for the last twelve years.” Triss brushed her fingers over her curly hair. “Tissaia found me wandering the streets. She took me in, gave me somewhere to stay until I could get on my feet.”

Romina didn’t expect that answer. 

“I’ve been with Aretuza all my life.” Yennefer’s voice lowered. Her attention fell to her coffee. She placed the spoon on a napkin and wrapped her hands around the cup. “Tissaia saved me.”

Romina nodded her head softly. She found herself a little dumbfounded, staring at the beautiful woman before her. She knew mages didn’t age. Her mother, after all, was in her late fifties but appeared in her mid-twenties, close to Romina’s age. 

“Does she do that with everyone? Save them? Help them?” She asked quietly. 

“Yes.” Triss nodded her head. “Tissaia de Vries saves everyone, whether they know they need it or not. She has can…. She can spot a person who has potential and make them see that potential.”

“Sabrina always compares them-compares us-to dying stars.” Yennefer turned her head to look out of the window. “She says Tissaia has the ability to resurrect dying stars and turn them into something beautiful.”

“That’s why Calanthe let’s her run Aretuza the way she does.” Triss added, leaning in so she wouldn’t have to talk so loud. “Because Tissaia is the shit.”

Romina giggled and tucked strands of brunette hair behind her ear. 

*** 

Romina looked in one of the mirrors in the break room, checking her appearance before she went out to the floor. She raked her fingers through her hair, which she’d straightened for the night. She wore a pair of black skinny jeans with a black turtle neck tucked into them. A belt with a squared gold buckle wrapped around her waist. Black leather boots with four inch heels adorned her feet. 

“Are you always this narcissistic?”

Romina jumped and turned to see Geralt leaned against the doorway to the break room. She hadn’t even heard him open the door. 

“Maybe I am.” She muttered, irritated that he was so sneaky. She turned back to look in the mirror once more. “Why did you tell Tissaia about the other night?”

“Because it’s her business to know if one of her girls has been harassed by the Suns.”

“It’s really not her business what happens to me.” She turned back to him. 

He didn’t wear the leather jacket he had dawned both times she saw him. He was in a fitting black long sleeve. His hands were tucked underneath his crossed arms. 

“The second you took this job, you made your life her business.”

“What’s your deal?” Romina furrowed her eyebrows together. “Do you just show up at inconvenient times to mutter some bullshit and then disappear?”

“Or I show up and save your ass from the Black Sun.” He bit back. 

“I never asked you to save me, so if you’re going to keep rubbing it in my face, then please point me in the direction of the nearest Black Sun so they can just take me the hell out.”

Tissaia said she wanted Romina to be more lively. She wanted more personality.

Instead of snapping back with some sort of snide comment, he rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

“Have you been following me, Geralt?”

He stopped in his tracks. Romina thought maybe he was surprised by her using his name. He turned to face her, his brows furrowing together.

“Why?”

“That’s not an answer. Have you been following me?” Romina took a few steps towards him. In her outfit, she felt powerful, like she owned the world. He didn’t scare her. “I heard your voice last night and I swear, I saw you earlier this morning when I was out.”

He continued to stare at her as if she spoke in a language he didn’t know. 

Triss slipped into the room passed him, accidentally bumping into the large man who blocked the doorway. He blinked and looked down at Triss.

“Are you okay, Geralt?” She asked him. 

He muttered something under his breath and disappeared out of the break room.

“What is his problem?” Romina whispered to Triss. 

“It just takes him a while to warm up to people.”

“He’s an ass.”

“He’s brooding, sure, but he means well.”

“No, not that. I think he’s been following me, Triss.” Romina crinkled her brows. 

“Geralt? No.” Triss laughed just a little. “He sticks to himself.”

“Why does a Witcher hang around here anyways?” She looked back to the mirror as Triss went to her locker. 

“Because his goddaughter is Cirilla, the Lioness’ granddaughter. He’s one of us.” Triss pulled out a little makeup bag and went to stand next to Romina at the mirror. 

“Well, he has a terrible attitude.”

***

Romina gasped and immediately dropped to her knees at the sight of a dog, a brown husky, in the bar. The moment it saw her and Triss, the dog took off in the direction of the women. 

It barreled into Romina, eager to get attention. 

“Oh my gods! Aren’t you the cutest thing ever!” Romina rubbed the dog’s neck and ears. It had a leather collar around its neck with Roach engraved on a golden plate. 

A sharp whistle caught the dog’s attention. It left Romina’s lap and went to stand at the feet of Geralt. 

Romina watched the man for a moment as he rubbed between the dog’s ears. He lifted his head to look at her. She pushed herself to her feet. 

“You don’t strike me as the dog type.” Romina moved towards him, smiling at the dog. “He reminds me more of a cat guy.” She spoke in a high pitched voice. The dog wagged its tail and bolted towards her again, weaving itself in and out of her legs. 

“Roach.” Geralt called the dog’s name. It obediently listened and returned to his side, sitting down by his boots. The dog’s mouth was wide open and it appeared that it was smiling at Romina. 

“Roach?” She raised a brow. “Who names their dog Roach?”

“I do.”

“Hmm. Of course you would.” She moved to start taking chairs off of tables. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

Romina didn’t answer him, deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine. Geralt knew what she was doing. He saw the way she grinned like she had thought of some grand plan. 

The doors to the bar burst open. Romina looked to the door, caught off guard by the sudden entrance of the two men. 

“Romina.” Geralt said her name in a hushed tone. It was weird to hear him sound so gentle and soft. 

Her attention was pulled away from the two men to look at the Witcher. He motioned for her to come to him. Romina gave the two men at the door one last glance before moving towards Geralt. She didn’t go to him completely so he placed himself in front of her. 

“What are you-,”

“Romina.” Triss cut her off. She stood behind the bar just off to Romina’s right. She shook her head, silently telling Romina not to speak. 

The tension in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Romina peered around Geralt’s arm, curious to get a better look at the two who had entered Aretuza.

The man who had entered first wore an expensive black suit. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back. He messed with the watch on his wrist. It looked just as expensive as his suit, maybe even more. 

The man looked around the bar, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks. His eyes moved over Yennefer, who stood at the other end of the bar from Romina, Geralt, and Triss. Sabrina, a red headed bartender, stood next to Yennefer. 

The man didn’t seem interested in any of them. His eyes landed on Romina. A crooked smile crossed his lips. 

“Ah, Romina-,”

“You aren’t welcomed here, Cahir.” Geralt’s voice was deep and frightening.

The man, Cahir, looked to Geralt, obviously annoyed that he’d dare to interrupt him.

“The guard dog speaks.”

“Cahir.” Tissaia’s stern voice came from behind Romina. 

Romina looked over her shoulder to see Tissaia emerging from the hallway her office and the break room were down. Briefly, the Rectress met Romina’s gaze. But then she looked back to Cahir, clasping her hands together at her waist.

“You know coming in here would cause trouble,.”

“I just came to see the daughter of the Bishop. I wanted to see if she shared his…. personality.”

“How did you know my father?” Romina spoke. Geralt reached back to put his hand on her arm to ensure that she stayed safely behind him. 

“Oh, we were brothers, darling. As thick as thieves.”

“Brothers my ass.” Yennefer spat. “You’re the one who killed him.”

Romina’s brows furrowed together. She didn’t know if this man meant he was actually her father’s brother or if they were like brothers. Nor did she know any details about her father’s death. She didn’t think she cared about him that much. She hardly knew the man aside from what faint memories she had from her childhood. But now that the situation was being presented, she wanted to know everything. 

“Please take Romina to the back, Geralt.” Tissaia told him. 

“No!” Romina raised her voice, pushing his hand off of her arm. “What does she mean he killed my father?” Her brown eyes found Tissaia.

“I can explain it later, mouse, but now is not the time.”

“You just came here to stir up trouble, Cahir.” Triss spoke. 

“Geralt.” Tissaia said his name. 

The witcher nodded his head once and turned to face Romina.

“Come on-,”

“No, I want to know what he meant.”

“You will know in due time.” Geralt assured her, ushering her back towards the break room. 

“Don’t tell me she doesn’t know of her bloodline.” Cahir’s words silenced the entire bar.

Geralt no longer tried to make Romina go back to the break room. He kept his back to Cahir as he faced Romina. He was able to see the look on her face change from confusion to worry. She gazed across the room to Cahir.

“Bloodline?” She repeated quietly, her voice threatening to break. 

All her life, Romina was kept from relatives, from the sisters she knew her mother had to the brother her father had. She always wondered what was wrong, why she couldn’t have a big family like everyone else she knew. This man man here claimed to know about her family. 

Tissaia, using telekinesis, pulled the knife from Geralt’s jacket that rested on a barstool. The weapon launched across the room, stopping just a few inches from Cahir’s neck. 

“You aren’t welcomed here.” Tissaia’s voice was much more threatening than it had been before. 

Romina stepped forward, wanting to follow Cahir as he turned to leave the bar. Geralt’s arm wrapped around her waist tightened. No matter how hard she pushed, he wouldn’t let her go. 

Behind the mages at the bar, the mirror on the wall began to rattle. Yennefer could sense Romina’s power, her energy, her chaos. The elder mage looked to the mirror, her brows furrowing together. 

Geralt could feel a sudden surge, almost like an electric pulse travel from Romina’s body to his hands and his arm where she touched him. It wasn’t enough to be painful but it was noticeable and it was annoying. 

“I-I need to know, Geralt.” Romina couldn’t find the power to be angry at him for stopping her. One hand held his forearm while the other was tucked underneath his bicep and fisted the material of his shirt. 

“You will soon.” He assured her. 

“Yennefer, take Sabrina and check outside.” Tissaia spoke as she moved towards Romina. 

Tears filled the young girl’s eyes. She couldn’t look away from the front doors. 

Geralt could hear her heart, hear the way her breathing was labored. His attention was pulled from Romina to Tissaia. The Rectress placed her hand on Romina’s cheek. 

Romina’s brown gaze found Tissaia, who looked at her with a softness Geralt had only witnessed a handful of times in the decades he’d known the Rectress. 

“No need to work yourself up, mouse.” Tissaia brushed pieces of Romina’s hair behind her ear. “You will find the answers you seek, but only when you are ready.”

“I want to know now.” 

“You aren’t ready to hear the truth.” Tissaia softly shook her head. Her hand dropped from Romina’s face as she turned to go towards her office. “Assist her to the break room, Geralt. She needs a few minutes to gather herself.”

“I don’t need your help.” Romina spoke through her teeth to Geralt as he let her go. She stomped towards the break room. 

Geralt locked his jaw, watching her disappear through the door. He turned his head to look at Tissaia. 

“Did you feel that?”

“We all did.” Yennefer said. “She’s going to be a danger to us all if she loses control.”

“I remember a point in time when you couldn’t control your chaos.” Tissaia glanced over to the mage briefly before bringing her eyes back to Geralt. “I will tell her when the time is right.”

He grunted and shook his head, moving to go to the break room.

***

Romina stood at the mirror in the break room, her hands by her sides and her gaze focused on her reflection.

Geralt stopped in the doorway of the room. He watched as her fingers curled into fists.

“Cahir isn’t worth getting frustrated over.”

“I’m not frustrated.” She murmured softly. “Just confused.”

She blinked and turned her head to look at him. Her hands met each other in front of her waist. She started to mess with her fingers. She held his gaze for a few heartbeats then looked down to her hands.

“I saw what happened back there. The mirror shook.”

Geralt tilted his chin up just a little.

“It happens to mages who aren’t trained to contain themselves.”

She nodded softly.

“It happened when my father…. when I heard he died. I was on the phone with my mother. All of the windows in my apartment, they shattered. All of the windows in the apartments on my floor, the two floors above me, and the floor below me…. It all shattered.”

She moved to sit at one of the tables. She leaned back and rubbed her palms together.

“I wasn’t close to him. I didn’t…. I didn’t know him. But I still…. I felt pain when he died.”

“He’s your father, whether you had a relationship with him or not.”

Romina nodded her head again.

“Did Cahir kill my father?”

“I don’t know.” Geralt answered her.

He turned his head to look over his shoulder. Tissaia had entered the break room. She nodded her head once to him. He glanced one last time to Romina before leaving.

“We open in less than ten minutes.” Tissaia moved to stand a few feet from Romina. “Gather yourself and get ready for the day.”

“I want answers.” Romina looked up at her.

“You will get them when you are ready.” Tissaia turned to leave the break room. Romina stood up, the chair she was in screeched against the floor.

“Am I a mage?” She demanded, her fingers curling tightly by her side.

Tissaia stopped at the door to look back at the girl.

“No, but when the time comes…. you will have the potential to be one of the greatest I’ve ever seen.”

Romina watched the door swing shut behind the Rectress.

***

When Aretuza closed at five in preparation for the busy evening that laid ahead, Romina found herself leaning against the counter across from Triss and Yennefer. They were taking a little break before getting back to work. They sat in the barstools while Romina stayed behind the bar.

“Who is Cahir?” She leaned on her elbows against the black marble top.

“A dick.” Yennefer spoke through a mouthful of her burger. 

“He runs the Black Sun.” Triss said. 

“Does he always walk in here like he owns the place?”

“Never.” She shook her head. 

“He was taunting Tissaia.” Yennefer looked over to Triss. The two shared a glance, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Romina.

“What?” She furrowed her eyebrows together.

Triss looked down at her plate of fries while Yennefer looked behind the bar into the kitchen and then towards the hallway Tissaia’s office and the break room was down. The three were alone at the bar. Everyone else was in the break room or stepped out for a smoke. 

Yennefer brushed her tongue along the front of her teeth, shifting around in her seat before leaning forward towards Romina.

“He wants you-,”

“Yennefer.” Triss cut her off. “We really shouldn’t be telling her.”

“No, you really should.” Romina looked between the two. “I don’t want to be left in the dark.”

“You aren’t being left in the dark.” 

Romina turned her head to look at Tissaia. She made her way around the bar, taking swift steps towards the small group. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt that fell just below her knees and a dark red button down tucked into the skirt. Her hair was in a low bun. 

“You’re being protected, little mouse. You’re very new to us, practically an outsider. We don’t share everything with outsiders.” Tissaia’s gaze fell on Yennefer and Triss. “Leave us.”

Triss stood up, taking her plate and drink, and moved towards the break room. Yennefer seemed a little more irritated. She rolled her eyes and sighed but she followed Triss nonetheless. 

“You don’t know much of anything about our lifestyle, mouse.” Tissaia messed with the pendant to her necklace. “You will learn of what is and what isn’t acceptable. For instance, what Yennefer almost did is unacceptable.”

“I just wanted her to tell me-,”

“I know what you want, but as I’ve said before, you aren’t ready.” Tissaia firmly cut her off. “What is acceptable is you carrying out your duties here at Aretuza and waiting patiently like the quiet little mouse you are.”

Romina was frustrated. She gritted her teeth together and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. 

“Why do I have to wait?”

“Why do you need all the answers immediately?” Tissaia countered, raising one brow just slightly.

“Because Yennefer said Cahir killed my father.”

The Rectress fell silent. She nodded her head a little. 

“You have yet to be accepted by Calanthe. Once she accepts you as one of hers, then you can know of your father’s history with us.” She moved to return to her office. 

“What do I need to do to be accepted by her?” Romina followed Tissaia around the bar but she didn’t move fast enough. 

Tissaia disappeared into her office. Romina growled in frustration and rested the upper half of her body on the bar. 

“Pouting now, are we?”

She lifted her head, dragging her palms across the cold marble. She sent Geralt a glare, muttering a few curse words to him under her breath. 

“I’m not pouting. I’m just….” She shook her head, unable to come up with the right word to accurately describe how she felt. She was angry and frustrated with Tissaia. But she was also confused and upset that she didn’t know what everyone else apparently knew. 

“Take it from someone who was once an outsider to these people.” Geralt came to stand close to her. She turned to face him, furrowing her brows together. “It takes time for them to warm up to you. The only reason you are here is because of who your father was.”

“I don’t even know who the man is, Geralt!” Romina couldn’t help but raise her voice. “I saw him once a year on my birthday until I was eighteen and then after that, I didn’t see him until I was twenty-three. That was the last time I saw him. Three years ago.” She shook her head. Her fingers combed through her hair. “Everyone here sounds like they knew him better than I did.”

Geralt sighed through his nose and leaned against the counter with one elbow. 

“The Bishop was a complicated man. But from what I heard, his biggest regret was never having a relationship with his daughter.” 

Romina found herself gazing up at the man, losing herself in his liquid gold eyes. 

The sound of the front door closing behind Vilgefortz, one of the bartenders, made Romina jump. She looked away from Geralt to the man entering the bar. He smiled to Romina and nodded once to Geralt but continued on his way passed them to the break room.

“What did you have to do to get them to trust you?” Romina brought her attention back to the Witcher standing less than a foot from her. 

An arrogant smirk crossed his lips. 

“Became the Butcher of Blaviken.” He patted the bar with his hand twice and then moved to the break room.


	4. Four

Romina laughed, throwing her head back as she held on to Jaskier’s arm. 

“Jask, I can’t believe you’d do that.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to laugh so hard.” Jaskier muttered, though he was grinning from ear to ear. 

He just finished telling her a story about how he accidentally called one his professors dad earlier in the day. They walked down the street in the direction of Romina’s apartment. It had been two days since she last worked at Aretuza, so they were taking advantage of her free time. They spent the whole day going in and out of different stores, shopping here and there when they found things they liked. 

“Was the professor hot?” Romina gathered herself enough to ask him the question. 

“He is a solid six on my older than fifty scale.”

Jaskier’s reply caused Romina to burst out into laughter again. Jaskier glanced over his shoulder. He felt like they were being followed, like someone was watching them that shouldn’t have been watching them.

“What are you looking at?” Romina looked in the direction he had looked. There was no one behind them.

“Doesn’t it feel weird tonight? Like someone’s watching us?” He asked quietly, leaning in to whisper to her. The smile fell from her lips as she tightened her grip around his arm. 

“I’ve felt like that for the last week.” She admitted. Her eyes now scanned the sidewalk ahead of them, looking carefully for anything lurking in the shadows cast by the street lamps. 

“Really? Why haven’t you told me?” Jaskier drew his brows together. 

“It’s been since I was jumped Monday night. I figured it was just me being paranoid.” She shrugged her shoulders. 

“Did you ever go to the police about it?”

“No.” She sighed.

“Well that’s your first mistake. You said one of the guys knew your name. He called you out by name so he had to have been following you beforehand.”

“I know, Jask. I’ve thought a lot about how he could possibly know my name.”

“Then why haven’t you gone to the police yet?” 

“Because I…. I just haven’t.”

A hand suddenly clasped Romina’s arm just as they passed an alley. A high pitched squeal escaped her lips but another hand covered her mouth.

“What the hell!” Jaskier shouted as she was pulled out of his arms. 

“Shh, Romina.” A familiar voice whispered into her ear. His hot breath tickled her neck. She quit struggling against his grip as he slowly released her. She spun around, eyes wide and still full of panic, to face the white haired man.

“What the hell is your problem!”

“Keep your voice down-,”

“Are you fucking psychotic or something!” Romina didn’t lower her voice as she stepped away from Geralt. “You don’t just grab someone like that, you fucking asshole!”

“You know this man?” Jaskier gestured to Geralt. The former had his phone out, ready to call the police. Romina didn’t answer his question. She was too busy trying to catch her breath. 

“You’re being followed.” Geralt told her, ignoring Jaskier’s stare.

“Yeah, by you!”

“No, not just me.” He moved passed Romina and Jaskier to stand at the edge of the alley. He held his hand out to tell Romina to stay where she was as he looked down the sidewalk in the direction the duo had come from. “Fuck.” He cursed through his teeth.

“Who is it?” Romina asked, pushing aside how badly she wanted to cuss the man out. She could sense something wasn’t right. 

“Who do you think?” He muttered under his breath. “Come on. You don’t live far from here.”

“Come on, Jaskier.” Romina wrapped her fingers around his wrist and pulled him with her. Geralt settled with walking directly behind Romina. She looked over her shoulder and tried to look past Geralt, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Keep your eyes ahead of you. I’ve got your back.”

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Jaskier looked at Romina with wide eyes. 

“I might have joined a cult.” She admitted quietly. 

“Oh my gods-,”

A gunshot echoed through the air and Geralt hissed. Romina came to a stop, turning to see what had happened.

“Don’t stop until you get to your apartment.” Geralt gave her a firm shove. She stumbled a little but refused to leave him. He turned just in time to dodge what looked like a knife that was swung for his head. Romina gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she watched the fight unfold. Jaskier moved to stand beside her. He was confused and didn’t know what was happening, but he couldn’t look away from the fight. 

Geralt did a good job at dodging every swing, every stab, and every kick aimed his way. It wasn’t until someone came from behind Romina and grabbed her that he lost his focus. An arm wrapped around her torso completely, pinning her arms to her sides. A hand slapped over her mouth, retching her head at an awkward angle to the left. A woman came to stand between Romina and Jaskier, holding a gun up to the man when he made an attempt to go after Romina. 

Romina managed to grab ahold of whoever was holding her captive. Her hand latched on to their outer thigh, fingers digging into the material of their jeans. The clothing her hand touched began to turn burn away until her hand met the man’s thigh. A pained cry escaped his lips and he released her. Romina fell to her knees, her chest rising and falling heavily. She looked behind her in search of the man but he was gone. 

Jaskier and the woman holding the gun to him were both looking at Romina, their eyes wide and slightly panicked. Romina tried to get to her feet but her head spun and breathing became difficult. Her vision went black and she crashed to the sidewalk.

***

The sound of a door practically slamming shut made Romina jolt awake. When she opened her eyes, she saw Geralt. He was placing her down on the sofa in her apartment. 

“Shit.” She cursed as she tried to move. Every muscle and bone in her body ached. 

“Oh my gods, you’re bleeding.”

Romina, thinking he was talking about her, quickly forced herself to sit up. She started to search her body for any injuries, but there were none. She lifted her head to see Geralt moving towards the door. 

“Geralt, wait!” She stood to her feet, holding on the arm of the chair for balance. He turned back to her. One of his hands was tucked under his opposite arm. Red seeped through his fingers. “Come-Come sit, please.”

“I’m fine.” He muttered and turned back to leave.

“Geralt, please.” 

Hearing the soft tone in her voice, one he didn’t have the pleasure of hearing before, made him stop once more. He sighed heavily before closing the door and turning to her.

“I’ll call an ambulance.” Jaskier suggested.

“No, you won’t.” Geralt took a step towards him. Romina moved to stand in the white haired man’s way. 

“Jaskier, put the phone away.” She looked to her best friend. He opened his mouth to object but decided against it. The man looked dangerous but Romina seemed to trust him. 

“Fine.” Jaskier muttered, putting his phone into the pocket of his jacket. Romina turned her attention to Geralt, who, for a split second, let the facade that he was okay slip. His brows were drawn together and his eyes shut. Romina placed her hand on his arm. His amber eyes opened and found her brown ones.

“Sit.” She ushered, motioning to the end of the sofa closest to him. “Jask, get me the first-aid kit underneath the sink in the bathroom.”

As Jaskier went to get the kit, Romina looked back to Geralt.

“Where are you hurt?” She asked him. He was leaning forward with his hand still holding his side.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away to reveal a hole in his black shirt. 

“Is your ego too big for me to patch you up?” She asked him. He grunted at her, rolling his eyes. “I’ll take that as a no. Lose the shirt.”

He looked up at her with a shocked gaze, like he didn’t expect her to ask that of him. He muttered something under his breath.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” Romina’s tone was teasing.

“This is the third time in less than a week that I’ve saved your ass.”

“Is not.” Romina’s voice was quiet. As he pulled his shirt up to take it off, she could see black ink and pale skin. She turned her back to him, giving him what little privacy she could. But when she thought about it, she wasn’t sure why she turned around. She’d end up having to look at him anyways.

“I’m going to bleed on your couch.” He grunted.

“Gang members have blood everywhere, don’t they?” She turned to face him. He snorted and rolled his eyes. 

She was frozen in place at the sight of the shirtless man. He always wore long sleeves so she never got a chance to see the tattoos covering his arms. There were a few on his stomach too. Before she was able to depict what was on his skin, Jaskier was walking back into the room.

“My gods, you are a masterpiece.”

“Jaskier.” Romina widened her eyes at him. He passed her the first aid kit. 

“Is this your boyfriend?” Geralt nodded to Jaskier. 

“Gods, no.” Romina shook her head. Jaskier squinted his eyes at her. “He’s a, uh, a friend.”

“The same one who didn’t walk you home Monday night when you were nearly kidnapped?”

“Why don’t you just stop talking and let me fix you up?” Romina muttered. She settled on her knees by his feet. “Turn to the side so I can reach your side.”

“First you complain that I talk too little, now you complain that I talk too much.”

“I’m not complaining yet.” 

As Romina pulled out a pair of latex gloves and an alcohol pad, she let her eyes wander over his torso. There were two lions on his upper chest. The one over his heart was a lion that looked like it was roaring. On the other side was a lioness doing the same action. 

Her eyes flickered up to his face only to see he was looking down at her. Her cheeks flushed as she looked back to the wound. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Jaskier asked but the second he saw the bloody wound, he heaved and placed his hand over his mouth. 

“Go take a walk out in the hall, Jask.” Romina looked over her shoulder to him. His face was pale. “Get some fresh air.” 

“I can-I can do that.” He nodded his head and made his way to the door.

Romina looked back to the wound. With her gloved hand, she reached around his side to feel for another injury.

“What are you doing?” He shifted a little away from her.

“You were shot. I’m looking for an entrance wound because the only one I see is an exit wound.”

“How do you know that?”

“I was a paramedic in Kaedwen.” She found what she was looking for when he hissed through his teeth. She had found the entrance wound. She opened up the alcohol wipe and started to clean the exit wound.

This gave her a chance to look at the tattoo across his abdomen. There was a deer skull that took up the majority of his toned stomach. The top of one antler rested just underneath his left nipple and the other antler was beneath his right one. Above the skull was a symbol Romina had seen before. It was the weird wolf symbol Geralt had on the back of the leather jacket he often wore.

“Your heart’s racing.” He commented. 

“I-I’m trying to wrap my head around…. around what just happened.”

He said nothing. 

“Are Witchers required to have the gang logo tattooed on them?” She raised a brow, taking the chance to look up at him through her lashes. She needed to talk, to have some sort of conversation that would take her mind away from Geralt being shot. 

“Many do.” He admitted quietly. He was surprised she recognized the Witcher symbol. “It’s a sign of loyalty.”

“I think it’s stupid.”

“You say that now, but in six months when Calanthe accepts you, you’ll be getting one for her.”

Romina’s eyes widened as she looked up at him.

“What?”

“I don’t know a Hellcat that doesn’t have one.” He kept his voice low so he wouldn’t chance anyone hearing their conversation. In all honesty, he would never talk like this with anyone else. Romina fell silent for a while as she worked on cleaning his wounds and applying gauze.

“I’m surprised you aren’t bleeding more.” She commented. “It practically stopped by the time I got to it.”

“Witchers heal quicker than humans.”

“Witchers are humans.” Romina looked up at him. “Just different. They keep…. They keep everyone safe from things like Bruxas and Leshen.”

“Not many care to know that.”

“Well, that’s the only thing I remember about my father.” She smiled tightly. “On the rare occasions I’d see him…. he would tell me stories about his hunts.” He fell silent. The door to the apartment opened. Jaskier slipped in and closed the door behind himself.

“We might have a teeny weeny problem.” He whispered loudly. Romina looked back to him, pulling her hands away from Geralt.

“What is it, Jaskier?”

“I need to go.” Geralt stood up suddenly and tugged his shirt on.

“Why?” Romina furrowed her brows together, standing to her feet.

“There are cops here.” Jaskier answered her. Romina stepped in front of Geralt to stop him from moving. There was a knock on the door. Geralt shifted his weight like he was debating on leaving.

“I can handle it.” She told him, looking up at him. “Just stay here.”

As badly as he wanted to go, he didn’t. He stayed where she stopped him and watched her move towards the door. She took a deep breath before opening the door. A tall older man with graying hair stood with a younger man, one with familiar blue eyes.

“Good evening, ma’am.” The older man greeted. “I am Det. Banic. I’m here with my partner doing a wellness check. We received a few calls that there have been shots fired in the area.”

Romina had trouble looking away from the younger man behind him. She furrowed her brows at him.

“I-I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“I don’t believe so, ma’am.” He put on a charming smile as he spoke. The second she heard his voice, she recognized him. He was one of the men who had attempted to kidnap her earlier in the week. In fact, he was the one who put his hand over her mouth and said her name.

Geralt, seeing that she was panicking, moved towards her. At the sight of the large man, the two officers took their attention away from Romina.

“All is well here, gentlemen.”

Romina noticed the way the men stiffened up at the sight of the Witcher, like they knew who he was and they were scared of him. The older officer cleared his throat and looked to Romina. 

“Have a good evening, ma’am.” While she stood there, dumbfounded and confused, Geralt closed the door. 

“What-What was-I don’t understand-,” She looked to him. 

“Those men belong to the Black Sun. The one-,”

“He was there Monday.” Romina nodded her head, bringing her hand up to her mouth. “Does that mean that cops are-,”

“Tied to the Black Sun.” Geralt crossed the room and went to the window. He pulled the curtains back just a little to peer down at the street below.

Romina felt a sudden pressure in her chest like something heavy was sitting on her lungs. Tissaia appeared behind Jaskier. Just as the man turned around, Tissaia lifted her hand and blew a white dust into his face. His eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to the floor in a heap.

“What-What the hell did you do?” Romina started to move towards him but Tissaia put her hand up.

“He’s just sleeping.” She turned her head to Geralt. The two shared some sort of silent and brief conversation. Geralt grunted and rolled his eyes. “Geralt will take him to his apartment and then meet us at Aretuza.”

Romina furrowed her eyebrows, watching Geralt pick up Jaskier and put him over his shoulders. She wanted to go with him to ensure that Jaskier made it home safely.

“Come along, little mouse.” Tissaia turned and moved through a portal behind her.

***

As Romina stepped through the portal, her stomach twisted up and she felt nauseous. She placed her hand on her stomach, taking slow and steady deep breaths in an attempt to make the feeling go away.

The portal took her to the break room at Aretuza. Yennefer, Triss, Sabrina, and Vilgefortz were sitting around one of the circular tables. Sitting on the sofa with his ankle crossed over his knee was a man with graying hair and a beard. 

“Have a seat, Romina.” Tissaia gestured to a chair nearby but didn’t look in Romina’s direction.

“Is this…. Is this some sort of meeting?” She looked around at the familiar faces she worked with. Then her eyes flickered to the man on the sofa. Her mouth was dry and her stomach continued to twist up in knots. 

“What happened tonight, Romina?” The unfamiliar man asked her.

“This is Mousesack. He’s here on behalf of the Lioness.” Tissaia told her. “Answer his question.”

Romina looked from Mousesack to Tissaia. Her hands curled into nervous balls by her sides. 

“I-I was walking home with a friend. Geralt came out of nowhere and grabbed me. He said I was being followed.” She paused for a moment to see if anyone would say anything and hopefully take everyone’s attention off of her. But when no one spoke, she continued. “I don’t-I don’t know much of what happened after the gun went off.”

“Who’s gun?” Mousesack asked her.

“I don’t know. I think it was one of them, one of the Suns. Geralt was shot.”

“What do you remember after the gun went off?” 

“I was grabbed and when the guy let me go, I blacked out.” Romina nervously looked to Tissaia. 

A portal appeared in the doorway to the break room. Geralt stepped out, glancing briefly around the room to see who was present.

“Witcher.” Mousesack clasped his hands together in front of himself. “So nice of you to finally join us.”

He grunted in reply. 

“I shouldn’t stay long.” Mousesack started to make his way towards the door, moving swiftly between tables and chairs. As he passed Romina, he stopped, eyeballing her more carefully up close. He didn’t look pleased. He continued on towards the door, stopping only to pull it open and turn back to Tissaia. “Calanthe won’t be too thrilled when I tell her what happened tonight. We’ll be in touch.”

Tissaia held her hands in front of her waist, twisting a ring on her index finger as she waited for the door to shut. Blue eyes flickered to Geralt.

“What happened tonight will not happen again.”

Geralt shifted his weight from one foot to the other but said nothing in reply.

“She is your responsibility.”

“I can’t control her, Tissaia.” He spoke calmly, his voice deep and quiet. “She can’t even control herself.”

“A member of the Black Sun died tonight because you didn’t do your job.” Tissaia’s voice was sharp. “We’d be lucky if when Cahir finds out, he doesn’t retaliate.”

The Witcher locked his jaw. Romina could see the frustration in his yellow eyes as he silently took her words in. 

“Who died?” She murmured quietly, her brows drawing together. 

Tissaia let out a sigh through her nose and turned her head to Romina.

“The man who grabbed you. You placed your hand upon him and he was reduced to dust.” Romina inhaled sharply. She looked down at her hands. Her fingers trembled just slightly from her nerves. 

“May as well tell her now.” Yennefer muttered under her breath, sitting back in her seat. Tissaia looked to the mage. She was irritated with the events of the night. 

“Leave.”

With the simple command, Yennefer, Triss, Sabrina, and Vilgefortz left the room. Geralt made no effort to follow them. Tissaia lifted her chin up just a little as she brought her eyes to him. He grunted from deep within his chest. It almost sounded like a growl. Romina watched him leave the break room. Tissaia moved to sit at a table, crossing her knees and folding her hands in her lap. She closed her eyes for a moment.

Romina took the chance to move to a nearby table. She sat down and placed her hands on her thighs.

“You know you are different than those around you.” Tissaia spoke softly. “You’ve felt it since you were young. Have you not?”

The brunette looked down at her hands. Her fingers curled into her thighs. Her vision started to blur with tears.

“Don’t cry, little mouse. Tears will do you no good.”

“I-I never thought anything of it, you know?” Romina whispered. “I just felt…. I felt out of place. Like I never fit in. My mom always told me it was just because I…. because I was special.” She furrowed her brows at the word.

“Indeed you are. You have yet to meet Cirilla, the Lioness’ granddaughter. She’s a Source, just like you. And just like you, Elder Blood flows through her veins.”

“Elder Blood?”

“You’ve heard stories of Lara Dorren, Romina.”

Romina turned her head to see her mother, Emmaline, entering the room. Romina jumped to her feet and hastily went to her mother, wrapping her arms around Emmaline tightly.

“I-I don’t know-I don’t know what’s going on, mom.” She cried, stuffing her face into the comforts of Emmaline’s shoulder.

“I’ll explain everything to you, sweetheart. But you need to calm down.” Emmaline pulled away from Romina and guided her to a chair closer to Tissaia. “Lovely to see you, Tissaia.”

The Rectress nodded her head once in acknowledgement.

“What have you told her?” Emmaline sat down beside Romina.

“I haven’t gotten into the details of anything. If you’d like me to leave-,”

“Please, stay.” Emmaline cut her off. “You might answer things better than me.”

Romina’s eyes were focused on the floor. Though she heard them talking, she didn’t know what they were saying. It was all muffled noise.

She killed a man. She killed him simply by laying her hand on him. Guilt pooled in the pit of her stomach and breathing became difficult. The weight on her chest returned, but this was different. This was remorse and regret.

A hand on her shoulder made her flinch back to reality. Emmaline was looking at her with tender blue eyes. Her blonde hair was done in a neat braid over the side of her shoulder. The crows feet by her eyes appeared as she offered her daughter a sad smile.

“I should’ve told you of your heritage a long time ago, sweetheart.” Emmaline brought her eyes to Tissaia. “Where to start?” She thought out loud.

“At the beginning.” Tissaia suggested.

Emmaline nodded.

“You’ve always been told stories of monsters and magic.” She brushed her hand over Romina’s hair. “But you’ve been taught that you weren’t a part of that world.”

“But I am.” Romina whispered. “Tissaia said I’m not a mage yet. That means I will be at some point.”

“That is true. But you won’t be just any mage, darling. You’d be stronger.”

“You’d be a Source.” Tissaia said, her eyes watching Romina. Should the young woman show any signs of distress, the Rectress needed to be prepared to stop her overwhelmed emotions from wreaking havoc. 

“The Lioness, Calanthe, is a distant relative of ours, Romina.” Emmaline’s hand fell from Romina’s hair to her knee. “We share the same great-grandparents. Our family is known for carrying the Elder Blood gene. Cirilla, the Lioness’ granddaughter, is a Source.”

“But what does any of this have to do with the Black Sun? Why are they following me? Why do they want me?” Romina crinkled her brows together. Emmaline let out a soft sigh, pulling her hands into her own lap.

“Cahir is your uncle. His brother is your father.”

Romina said nothing for a while as she stared at her mother. 

“Why was I kept from knowing he had any siblings?”

“Because Cahir is not someone you want to know, Romina. He slaughters and butchers anyone in his wake.”

“Cahir said the other day that he was business partners with dad.” Romina looked over to Tissaia. “What did he mean by that?”

“Barrett was a Witcher.” Tissaia started. “Are you aware of what they are?”

“A-A gang…. right? Just like you. Just like the Hellcats. Geralt is part of them.”

“Indeed he is, but they aren’t a gang. They’re more than that. They are raised from a young age to hunt monsters, to protect the humans from creatures that lurk in the dark. Once they’ve finished their training, Witchers are released into the world to do as they please. Some join other groups while others stick to themselves and only care about making money from their hunts. Geralt, for example, is considered family to us. So was Barrett.”

Romina brought her gaze down to her hands. 

“You shouldn’t stay long, Emmaline.” Tissaia said. “Cahir has had spies lurking around, watching Romina.”

Emmaline nodded her head.

“You’ve had a long night, love.” She rubbed her daughter’s shoulder. “How about you go home and get some rest. In the morning, if you have any questions, you can come over and see me or call me. I’m always here for you, love.”

Romina softly smiled and nodded her head.

As Emmaline stood up, so did Tissaia. The two met each other’s gaze but neither one said a thing. It was like they were having some sort of conversation without speaking. 

“Thank you for everything, Tissaia.” Emmaline murmured softly. Tissaia nodded once in acknowledgement. Emmaline leaned down to kiss the side of Romina’s head. “Tissaia will ensure you get home safely, love. I can’t stick around for too long. If Cahir thinks I’m friendly with anyone here, then all hell would break loose.”

Romina thought about asking her what she meant but she didn’t. There was too much information she still needed to process, still needed to absorb.

“Okay, mom.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too.” Romina whispered softly. She watched her mom step away from her and then turn to a circular portal opening up just behind her. Tissaia was opening it from her place across the table. The portal closed once Emmaline stepped through it. 


	5. Five

“Geralt will stay with you tonight until we can find somewhere else for you to go.” Tissaia spoke as she moved swiftly and gracefully towards the door that led to the bar. 

Romina was absolutely drained. There was a weight on her shoulders and she still felt nauseous. Her mind was going a million miles a second but at the same time, she couldn’t think of anything. All she wanted was to go home and take a shower, and maybe sleep for a week. 

“Romina?” Geralt’s voice pulled her from her swirling thoughts. She turned her head to look at the door Tissaia had left through. “Come on. It’s almost two in the morning.” She stood to her feet and followed him out of the break room.

***

Geralt’s truck rumbled as he put it into park. The engine died when he turned it off and pulled the keys out of the ignition. 

Romina had been silent the entire ride to her apartment. Her eyes stared out of the window to her right, her hands on her thighs squeezing every now and then. In the back seat, Roach was laying down with her head resting on her paws. 

The Witcher glanced over to Romina, sighing softly through his nose. He didn’t know what to do, what to say to make her feel better. He could sense her confusion, her anger. Her mind was in a great turmoil. She took a quiet deep breath and blinked, bringing herself from her thoughts. She turned her head to meet Geralt’s gaze. 

“Do you often get put on babysitting duty?”

He almost cracked a smile. At least she was well enough to tease him like she usually did. 

“Only when it comes to unstable Sources.” He stuffed the keys to his truck into his jacket and opened the door. This caused the lights in the cab to turn on. Romina was still looking at him, not making an effort to get out of the truck. “What?”

“I just…. I haven’t thanked you for earlier today.” She spoke quietly, letting her gaze fall to her hands. “You were shot and Tissaia yelled at you for something you couldn’t control. For something I did.”

“Tissaia didn’t yell at me.” Geralt stepped out of his truck and closed the driver’s side door. He opened the door right behind him and whistled once. Roach jumped down from the back seat. “I’ve seen her yell only a handful of times in the decades I’ve known her. She didn’t yell. She was just frustrated. Having a Hellcat kill a Black Sun could spark a war if Cahir decides to retaliate.”

Romina watched him close the door and then move around the front of the truck to her door. She didn’t intend to stay in the truck, to make him open the door for her. She just couldn’t get herself to think straight, to think of what she needed to do next. All she could do was sit there. Her limbs felt heavy, like someone tied weights to each of them. Geralt pulled her door open and waited patiently for her to unbuckle and slip down from the seat. 

“I didn’t mean to kill him, you know.” She whispered, standing barely a foot from him. She looked up at the tall man. Tears glossed her eyes and she bit her bottom lip for a moment. “I didn’t mean to.”

“There’s not a Source in history that didn’t accidentally kill someone.” Geralt closed the door to the truck as she moved towards her apartment building. “You’ve heard of Cirilla.” 

It was a statement but he paused to make sure she confirmed his thoughts. Romina nodded softly. They started for the elevator. She pushed the up button. 

“She killed at least a dozen people in the process of learning to control herself.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Romina glanced over to him.

“I never said it would.”

***

Romina closed the door to her apartment behind Geralt then locked the bolt and slid the chain across the top of the door. 

“Um, you can sleep on the couch.” Romina absentmindedly rubbed her arm. “I promise it’s more comfortable than it looks.”

“I won’t be sleeping tonight.” He shook his head, his eyes flickering around the room. She nodded her head softly. 

“There extra blankets in the closet down the hall if you change your mind.” She started to move towards her room. “Good night, Geralt.”

“Good night, Romina.”

***

Romina stepped into the shower, closing her eyes as the hot water made contact with her skin. She closed the door to the shower and then put herself directly underneath the falling water. Her eyes closed and her chest tightened. A sudden sob broke from her lips. One of her hands covered her mouth while the other held on to the shower wall. Her head fell as she cried into her hand, trying to muffle the sound. 

The water soaked her hair, making the long brunette strands cling to her neck and face. The weight on her chest was too much to bear. Her whole life she had been kept from the truth, from knowing who she was-what she was. Her uncle ran the Black Sun. He might have had something to do with her father’s death, and she killed a man. 

The latter alone was enough to break her down to tears. Guilt filled her entirety, absorbing her every thought and making every inch of her body numb. The water burned her skin but she didn’t move. She deserved the pain. The mental anguish wasn’t enough. 

***

Geralt lifted his head as he heard the door to Romina’s room open. He had heard her over a half an hour ago crying in the shower. He could hear her frantic heart beating, hear her muffled cries from behind her hand. 

Romina emerged from the hallway, her arms tightly wrapped around herself. She was dressed in a pair of black joggers and a white hoodie with the coat of arms for Kaedwen on the chest just above her heart. It was a black unicorn within a gold square. Her still damp hair was left down. She tucked a few pieces behind her ear. 

“I-I just wasn’t sure if you wanted company or not…. since you aren’t sleeping.” Her voice was raspy. She cleared her throat. “I can’t sleep. There’s too much…. too much going on.”

He said nothing. He was sitting in a chair in the dining room closest to one of the windows. 

Romina sat down on the sofa, curling her legs up underneath herself. 

“Just a few months ago, I lived in Kaedwen.” She wanted to talk, needed to talk. She needed to do something, whether he’d talk back or not. “I moved here because I wanted to be closer to my mother after my father died. She…. She loved him more than anything. I wasn’t sure how losing him would’ve affected her.”

Geralt listened to her carefully, curious to know more about her. 

“I’m from Ard Carraigh. I was a paramedic.” The little smile crossed her lips. “I was damn good at my job. Earned myself a nickname. The Angel of Ard Carraigh. My co-workers…. They’d call me a miracle worker.” She dropped her gaze to her hands, her fingers uncurling as she studied her hands. “Anyone I laid my hands on, they’d overcome whatever illness or injuries they had.”

Geralt noticed the way her fingers trembled just slightly. She curled her hands back up and pushed the sleeves of her hoodie down over her hands. She placed them in her lap as if she was hiding her hands. 

“The man you killed isn’t worth your worry. He was a criminal.”

“It wasn’t in my place to kill him though.” Romina shook her head, taking a deep breath to keep herself from crying. “Just because he was a bad man, that doesn’t mean it was okay for me to take his-to take his life.”

Geralt felt sorry for this woman. She was practically hurled into this life, into a life she should’ve grown up in. She would’ve adjusted easier had she been introduced to the ways of the Hellcats at a young age. 

Roach left her place by Geralt’s feet and went to Romina. The dog jumped onto the sofa next to Romina and placed her head on her lap. Romina smiled softly, rubbing Roach’s head. 

“Have you killed someone before?” Her voice lowered to a soft whisper as she looked across the room to him. The Witcher held her gaze, tilting his head up just a little. 

“Yes.”

Hearing his answer didn’t make her feel any better like she thought it would. Romina nodded softly and looked down at her hands. 

“Why does Cahir want me? He’s-He’s my uncle. He shouldn’t be trying to kidnap me or kill me or-or whatever he’s sending people to do to me.” 

“It’s for the same reason Calanthe gave the okay to bring you into our world.” Geralt leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You have the potential to be powerful.”

“If Calanthe’s granddaughter is a Source just like me, then why can’t she do what they all want me to do?”

“Because Cirilla is only sixteen. Calanthe doesn’t have the time to wait until Ciri is old enough.”

Romina nodded again. She looked down at Roach, smiling softly as the dog’s eyes met hers. 

“Who are her parents? Cirilla’s?” Geralt paused, clearly surprised that she asked the question.

“They died when Cirilla was young. It was a car accident.”

“Did you raise her?” Romina couldn’t help her curiosity. She would’ve never pictured the brooding, intimidating man to be a father. 

“With Calanthe’s help.” Geralt nodded his head once, tearing his eyes away from Romina. She smiled softly. 

“I’d like to meet her someday.” She looked up at him through her lashes. His golden eyes flickered over to her. Geralt nodded his head gently. 

“You should try to get some rest.” He stood to his feet and moved towards the window. His leather jacket was laying across the back of the chair he had previously been sitting in. The black henley he wore fit his torso and arms snuggly, accentuating his toned arms and his broad shoulders. The sleeves were pushed up to just below his elbows, revealing the tattoos on his forearms. 

The left one had the scene of a creek down by his wrist. Stones and rocks lined the creek and the bottom of a tree peeked out from the bottom of the sleeve that was pushed up to his elbow. The right forearm contained a snake wrapping around him with the head resting on the back of his right hand. Romina couldn’t help but gaze at the markings as he went to the window that overlooked the street below. He pulled the curtain back just a hair. As if on cue, she yawned, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She smiled down at Roach and then stood up. “Can I…. Can I just take a look at your side? It’s going to eat me up all night if I at least don’t check on it. You should’ve gotten stitches and I-I was going to do it but then the cops and Tissaia showed up and Jaskier was knocked out…. Oh shit! I forgot about him-,”

“Your friend is fine.” He assured her. “And I’m fine too. No need to worry.”

Romina held his gaze, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She bit her bottom lip, trying to think of a way to get him to agree to letting her just look at the wound. The paramedic in her was dying to make sure he was okay. The wound should’ve put him in the hospital. Geralt let out a sigh through his nose and rolled his eyes. 

“Fine.“

“Thank you.” Romina smiled just a little and moved towards him.

He pulled the material of his shirt up just enough for her to see the area where he’d been shot. The skin below his ribs were void of any open wound. Where he had been shot, there was a bullet scar. It was lighter than the rest of his pale skin.

“That’s amazing.” She breathed in awe, reaching out to tentatively touch the scar with her fingertips. 

When her fingers made contact with him, he inhaled carefully. Romina, thinking she hurt him, drew her hand back to herself and looked up at him.

“I-I’m sorry-,” 

“I’m fine. I told you I was.” He tugged his shirt back down into place. “Now go sleep.”

Romina nodded her head, biting her lip as she took a few steps away from him. She bumped into the end table by the sofa and turned to make sure she didn’t knock anything off.

“I’ll-I’ll see you in the morning.” She turned and quickly made her way towards her room.

***

_The Next Morning_

Romina knocked on the opened door to Tissaia’s office. It was just before 10:30a.m. and the staff of Aretuza was busy preparing for the day. Romina wasn’t on the schedule to work but Tissaia requested she come in anyways. 

“I didn’t expect you so early.” Tissaia put the papers in her hand down and folded her hands in her lap. 

“I need….” Romina trailed off, her eyes flickering down to the floor. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a steady deep breath through her nose and out through her lips. Her heart was racing in her chest. She wasn’t sure why it was doing this, but it made breathing and focusing on her thoughts difficult. “There’s a lot on my mind right now.”

“You need a distraction.” Romina nodded her head even though it wasn’t a question. Tissaia looked back to her desk and then to her watch. 

“I have an idea. Geralt suggested you learn a little self defense. He said you do pretty badly when it comes to defending yourself.”

“I’ve never had to fight, Tissaia.” Romina moved into the office, sitting down in a chair in front of her desk. “I’m-I’m completely new to this whole ‘fight or die’ gang shit.”

“We aren’t a gang, mouse.” Tissaia corrected her. “We are organized. We have a code, and we have morals. We aren’t a band of thugs going around committing petty larcenies.”

Romina’s gaze dropped to her hands and she nodded softly. 

“There’s a hierarchy, mouse, a food chain. And right now, you are at the bottom of that food chain. Without Geralt, you’d be dead already. Self defense is something you must learn in order to survive in this world.”

Romina said nothing. 

“Lift your head, mouse.”

The brunette slowly lifted her head, her eyes finding Tissaia.

“What happened to the fire I saw in your eyes the day Cahir came?” The Rectress tilted her head to the side just a little. 

“I killed someone, Tissaia.” She whispered. “I-I should be in prison right now, not here.”

“You wouldn’t last a day in prison, mouse. The man you killed deserved to die. He was a murderer himself.”

Hearing those words did little to comfort Romina. 

"I wouldn’t have brought you into this if I didn’t have faith in you, in what you can become.” Tissaia’s voice lowered and a softness took over her harsh tone. “I don’t waste my time on lost causes. You will experience many, many hardships in the near future. But you cannot linger on them. Do you understand what I’m telling you, little mouse?”

“Yes.” Romina nodded her head once more. 

“Good. Since you are here early, I’d like to discuss your current living arrangements. You live in Tanwen, correct?”

Romina nodded again.

“That is the Cahir’s territory. How would you feel about moving to Etolia?”

“Etolia?” Romina hadn’t heard of that part of Cintra.

“It’s just around the corner from here. And Yennefer and Triss live there in the Towers of Etolia. You currently don’t have a vehicle, is that correct?”

“I’m working on it, but right now I take the bus or walk.”

“Etolia would be safer for you. It’s more ideal that you live closer to others like you. Should anything happen, Yennefer or Triss are there for you.”

“Do I really have a choice?” Romina furrowed her eyebrows together.

“I’m afraid not. If Calanthe sees that one of her own is living in territory of the Black Sun, she could see it as though you’ve turned on her.”

Romina said nothing. Her stomach churned at the thought of being Black Sun territory. 

***

Having nothing better to do, Romina ventured out to the bar. It wasn’t yet time to open, meaning the only ones present were staff members. She took a seat at the end of the bar, crossing her arms and resting her head on them. She felt so exhausted, so worn and weak. 

“Here, love.” Triss placed a cup of coffee down in front of Romina. She lifted her head and offered the mage a half-ass smile. “How are you feeling, Romie?”

“Not the greatest, to be honest.” Romina wrapped her hands around the warm cup.

Something moving in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Further down the bar from her was Yennefer and Geralt. The former sat on a stool, her legs crossed. The white haired man stood close to her. Yennefer brushed her fingers over the sleeve to his leather jacket.

“I wasn’t aware they were a thing.” Romina brought her eyes back to her drink. 

“Yennefer and Geralt?” Triss raised her brows. “They haven’t been a thing for ages.”

“She seems like his type. Rough and…. aggressive.”

“Yennefer isn’t one for settling down.”

“He wanted to?” Romina furrowed her eyebrows together.

“She didn’t want more than anything casual.” Triss’s voice dropped to a quiet whisper as Geralt turned away from Yennefer and started making his way towards her.

Romina very briefly met his gaze before looking at Triss. 

“Hello, Geralt.” She greeted with a smile. 

“Triss.” He nodded once to her. Romina could feel his eyes boring holes into the side of her head. “Are you ready to get back to your apartment?”

“Tissaia must be paying you well to babysit me.” Romina lifted the coffee up to her lips and took a drink. She placed the mug back down on the counter and took a deep breath. “I don’t know anyone who follows around someone with as much trouble as me.” 

“I’m just…. I’m going to go.” Triss moved away from the two. 

“I’m not in the mood for games today, Romina.”

“Yeah? Well I’m not in the mood to be followed around!” She couldn’t help but raise her voice. All of the emotions inside had been festering, bubbling and boiling until they grew to be too much. “Since you came into my life, I’ve had problem after problem!”

She slipped from the bar stool she was perched on and turned to face him, standing nearly toe to toe with the massive man. She gazed up at him with anger in her eyes. They held each other’s gaze, neither one looking away as a few people moved into the room to watch.

“You can’t blame me for your problems, Romina.” Geralt kept his voice even and calm. “I’m not the only one Tissaia’s had follow you around.”

Romina’s brows drew together as she took in his words.

Something moved out of the corner of her eye. Jaskier stood near the entrance to the bar. Her attention was taken from the Witcher and turned to the only person she deemed a friend in Cintra.

“Jaskier?” She turned to face her.

“Hi, love.” He lightly waved at her.

“You…. You’re one of them?” She whispered.

“I-,”

“He’s one of us.” Tissaia spoke from the edge of the hallway. Romina didn’t look at her. “You’ve had one of us watching you since you stepped foot in Cintra. Whether it be Geralt or Jaskier, you’ve been protected.

“Is there anyone else you have that’s lying for you?” Romina spoke through her teeth to the Rectress.

“No.”

“Good. I’m done with this bullshit.” She shook her head and turned to leave, raking her fingers through her dark hair.

“Should one of us go after her?” Triss looked to Tissaia. The doors to the bar swung open and closed behind Romina.

“Not yet. Let her cool down.” Her eyes flickered to Geralt, who had his hands curled into tight fists by his sides. His golden eyes, swirling with frustration and annoyance, were focused on the door Romina disappeared out of. “It’s best not to let her words get to you-,”

“It’s not her words towards me that I’m concerned about.” Geralt turned his head to Tissaia. “You’ve seen what happens when a Source loses control. Ciri nearly reduced Aretuza to ash when she thought Calanthe died in the collapse of the Yaruga bridge. You must have extreme faith in Romina’s ability to control herself.”

“The very fact that she has yet to lose complete control of herself is a sign of her strength.” Tissaia tilted her chin up just a bit.

“You’re pushing her limits, Tissaia. I can feel the Chaos radiating off of her.”

“She’s been through a lot, Geralt.” Triss looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Why’d you have to tell her about Jaskier?”

“The kid was going to fuck up at some point. May as well have been me that told her.”

“What?” Jaskier’s eyes widened.

“What’s your game plan, Tissaia?” Yennefer crossed her arms as she leaned against the bar. She knew the Rectress always had something planned. There was never a time when she wasn’t two steps ahead.

“Romina isn’t some pawn in your game.” Geralt said.

“She’s not one of us, Tissaia.” Yennefer’s eyes briefly flickered over to the Witcher before she looked back to Tissaia. “She’s going to be killed the longer you pretend she is one of us.”

“She didn’t grow up in our world, Yennefer.” Tissaia reminded her. “How Emmaline raised her daughter was none of my business until Romina showed signs of being a conduit. She had a normal childhood, which can’t be said for any of you.”

As she looked around at Geralt, Yennefer, Triss, and the other staff members who were watching from the doorway of the kitchen.

“Death and betrayal, those are all things that have hardened each and every one of you. You’ve been subjected to it for most of your life, whether it be before you came here or after. Romina was protected her entire life. Barrett and Emmaline made sure nothing of our world would sully her. That is why she’s taken these last few days so harshly, why she is on edge. We must be patient with her.”

Tissaia’s gaze fell on Geralt.

“Getting irritated with her when she snaps at you isn’t going to help anyone.”

The Witcher growled from deep within his chest. He turned and stormed out of the bar. 

***

Hours later, Romina sat inside her apartment. After aimlessly walking around Cintra for the better half of the day, she retired to her apartment to hopefully get some rest and figure out what she was going to do.

She didn’t want to be a part of the Hellcats. She was uncomfortable with how okay everyone was that she murdered someone. That wasn’t the environment she wanted to be in. They were liars too. Jaskier pretended the whole time that they were friends. She confided in him and trusted him. 

Romina shook her head, gripping the mug of coffee in her hand tighter. She lifted her head and looked around the room. Her eyes fell on the window Geralt always looked out of.

Feeling a little paranoid, she stood to her feet and placed the coffee cup on an end table as she crossed the room. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and pulled the curtain back a little. Peaking out into the darkening street, she could spot a few people walking down the sidewalk. On the other side of the street from her apartment building sat a police car. It had been sitting there since she arrived home a few hours ago. 

Just as she turned to go to bed, her eyes caught a familiar black truck sitting just a little further down the street than the cop car. She watched the truck for a few moments, knowing very well who was inside of it. It aggravated her that Tissaia would still send him to babysit her even after Romina expressed her dislike in being followed.

“Assholes.” She muttered under her breath. She moved towards the front door, slipping on a pair of boots. 


	6. Six

Romina folded her arms beneath her chest, her eyes finding the brown husky sitting in the passenger seat of the truck. Roach barked once, alerting Geralt of Romina. He lifted his head. His golden eyes followed her as she walked around the front of his truck to get to the driver’s side door. He rolled the window down, sighing quietly.

“Thought Tissaia would’ve gotten the hint that I don’t want to be followed.” Romina stood a few feet from the door, looking in at the Witcher.

“Tissaia didn’t send me.” Geralt turned his head to look ahead of his truck. “Three cars in front of me is a police car. They’re here to watch you, just as I.”

“Why?” Romina turned her head to look in the same direction as him but he stopped her.

“Don’t look at them.”

Romina shuffled closer to the truck, suddenly feeling nauseous at the thought of the cops watching her.

“Are they Suns?” She quietly asked, leaning against the door. Geralt nodded once. “And you…. You’re here because they’re here?”

“I’m here because you’re clueless to everything that goes on around you.” His words were harsh but he didn’t feel bad for saying what needed to be said. “Every time that I haven’t been with you for the last week, you’ve been attacked.”

“There…. There was only that one time when you were shot.”

“And when we met. I was told by a friend that she saw you get stuffed into a trunk.”

Romina took a soft deep breath through her nose, her eyes carefully watching him.

“How long have you been following me?” She wasn’t too sure she wanted to know the answer to that. While part of her brain was telling her that this man that she barely following her and practically stalking her sounded like something straight out of a horror movie, another part of her brain was telling her that he could be trusted. Geralt was keeping her safe. He’d proven that time and time again.

“Long enough to know that you can’t protect yourself.”

“Then teach me.”

Geralt drew his brows together.

“Teach you?”

“Yeah.” Romina nodded. “Teach me to protect myself. Maybe then you can stop following me.”

He sighed out and looked over to Roach, who was watching Romina. Her tongue was hanging out as she panted softly.

“Fine-,”

“Great! Let’s go.” Romina turned to go back to her apartment.

“Right now?”

She didn’t answer him but gave him a thumb’s up as she crossed the road.

The Witcher looked down and sighed.

“Fuck.”

***

He closed the door to Romina’s apartment behind himself. Roach busied herself with sniffing around the apartment.

“Have you ever taught someone to fight before?” Romina turned to face him.

“Yes.”

“Where did you learn?”

“Kaer Morhen.”

“I’ve heard of that place. What is it?”

“If you’re going to ask questions all night, how do you expect to learn to fight for yourself?”

Romina rolled her eyes. She rolled her head from side to side and shook out her hands.

“Where do we start?”

Geralt watched her for a few moments, studying her carefully. He tucked a few pieces of white hair behind his ear and motioned for her to approach him.

“Come here.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Why do I need to be so close to you?” Romina muttered as she shuffled forward a little.

“I’m hoping that if you’re as far away from an assailant as you are to me, you’ll do the smart thing and run.”

She took a few more steps towards him until the toe of her boots were just a few inches from his much larger ones.

“You know, you don’t talk much but when you do, it’s all just a bunch of sassy remarks and bullshit no one asked-,”

A high pitched yelp escaped Romina’s lips as Geralt knocked his boot against the inside of her knee, pushing her leg out from underneath her. She stumbled and would’ve hit the ground had he not grabbed her arm.

“You talk too much.” He mumbled, releasing her only once he was sure she was steady on her feet. “Are you actually going to listen to me or are you going to talk back the entire night?”

Romina crossed her arms and huffed. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought it would be.

***

Romina hit the floor of her living room with a thud, the air escaping her lungs. Geralt knelt down over her, his knee carefully resting just below her rib cage. He wasn’t applying all of his weight to that area, but he was making sure that she couldn’t easily get up.

His hand grabbed for her wrist, effectively securing one to the floor by her head. He paused, looking down at her just to make sure he wasn’t hurting her.

“You’re heavy.” She tried to shift a little but he didn’t allow it.

“You’re full of complaints. What’s your next move?”

“Like I’d tell you.” She grunted. Using her free hand, she grabbed for his hand pinning her other hand to the floor. She tugged at the sleeve of his long sleeve and even tried to hit his arm to loosen his grip on her.

She growled in frustration. Her heart thumped in her chest and breathing was difficult, not because of Geralt’s knee practically being pressed to her sternum, but because she struggled to keep up with his fast pace. He hadn’t been taking it easy on her.

“Hit my elbow with the heel of your palm.” He offered the advice in a quiet voice. Romina’s eyes flickered up to look at his arm. She looked back to him to see if he was tricking her. “Do it.”

She brought her bottom lip between her teeth. She did as he told. The heel of her palm collided with his elbow. He didn’t budge.

“You asshole.” She muttered.

“You have to hit me harder than that.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Don’t be afraid of that. Just do it.”

Romina gritted her teeth together. She hit his elbow one more time, knocking it out of place.

Sensing her annoyance and anger, Geralt let her go and moved to stand up. He held his hand out for her.

“You’re a shitty teacher.”

“You’re a shitty student.” He countered, effortlessly pulling her to her feet.

“Am not!”

“You’re a shitty student because you’re afraid to hurt me. You think the Black Sun is going to be easy if they get their hands on you like they almost did last night? Cahir may be your uncle but he’s proven before that he doesn’t care if you’re hurt by his people.”

Romina crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“You’re still a shitty teacher.” She muttered. He rolled his eyes at her and shook his head. “You’re beating the shit out of me.”

“I haven’t hit you once.”

“No, but you’ve pinned me at least a dozen times!”

“Because you aren’t focusing. You’re distracted.” He moved to sit on the edge of the sofa next to Roach.

“No, I’m not.” Romina threw herself down into a chair.

“Your mind isn’t here, it’s elsewhere. You think things will come to you naturally, but in order for that to happen, you need to be disciplined.”

Romina sat up, rubbing her face with her hands. She rested her elbows on her knees and exhaled heavily.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for it-,”

“I’m not apologizing for being a shitty student. I’m apologizing for being an ass today.”

“I don’t want an apology.” Geralt shook his head gently. He sat down on the edge of the sofa next to Roach.

“I was an asshole to you. I yelled at you.”

“I’ve had many do worse.” He looked over to Roach.

Romina watched him for a few moments.

“What was bothering you earlier today?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“Well, if you get to know everything about my life, why can’t I know at least something about yours?” Romina stood up and moved to go to the kitchen.

He didn’t answer her.

“I didn’t know you and Yennefer dated.”

“We didn’t.” He huffed.

“She’s cute and super scary. Fits you.” She pulled two water bottles from the fridge and passed him one as she returned to her chair.

“We couldn’t be anymore ill-suited for each other.” He glanced down at the label to the water.

Romina watched him for a few moments before she dropped her sight down to her hands.

“I’m stuck in this, aren’t I?” She hesitated to look back up at him. His golden eyes met hers.

“In Aretuza?”

She nodded her head.

“I’m afraid so.”

Romina sighed gently, leaning back in her seat.

“I don’t want to be clueless. To be…. To be the one who knows nothing. It makes me feel stupid and I look like an ass.”

“Your life has been turned upside down, Romina. It’s been less than a week. You’ll learn eventually.”

“What’s Blaviken?”

Her question caught him off guard. He glanced to her out of the corner of his eyes.

“It’s on your jacket.” She nodded to the leather jacket he’d thrown across the back of a chair in the kitchen.

Geralt ran a hand over his jaw and leaned back, sinking into the sofa. Roach moved to rest her head on his thigh.

“It was a bar.”

“Was? What happened to it?”

“Burned down six decades ago.”

Romina nodded her head softly. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes flickering around the room.

“What makes you the Butcher of Blaviken?”

Sensing his hesitation, she immediately started to back track.

“You don’t have to tell me. I-I know everyone has…. everyone has things they don’t care to talk about.”

Geralt debated on telling her, his hand gently brushed over Roach’s head. He didn’t have to answer any of her questions technically. He didn’t have to tell her anything. His only job was to make sure she stayed alive. 

“Seventy years ago, it was attacked. Forty-eight men died. Seventeen were Witchers.”

“How many survived?”

“Just two.” He paused for a moment, his hand stilling on Roach’s head. “Myself and Barrett.”

Romina inhaled softly, her brows drawing together.

“You knew my father?” She asked quietly. Geralt nodded his head once. “You never acted like you knew him.”

The white haired man said nothing.

“What was he like?”

“What do you remember about him?” Geralt countered.

Romina looked down at her hands, messing with her nails.

“He was always…. He was always smiling.” The corners of her lips turned up just a little. “He always had such great stories to tell. I’d only see him on my birthday but we’d stay up in the living room and he’d tell me stories of everywhere he had been. I never understood why he stayed away.”

“Witchers aren’t supposed to have families. It’s against our code.” Geralt stretched one arm across the back of the sofa.

“That sounds like a very lonely lifestyle.” Romina murmured, looking up at him through her dark lashes. He met her eyes, finding himself lost in her chocolate gaze.

“It can be, but one learns to suffice with the life he’s given. Barrett loved your mother. His loyalty to her was the only thing more powerful than his loyalty to our guild.”

She fell silent for a few moments.

“So if you…. if you became the Butcher of Blaviken seventy years ago…. How old are you?”

“I stopped counting after it got into the triple digits.”

Romina furrowed her brows together gazing at the man sitting across from her, confused.

“Surprised?”

“You don’t…. You don’t look old.”

“Witchers don’t age.”

“So not only are you a part of a group that hunts monsters, but you also can’t have a family and you can’t age?”

He nodded stiffly.

“Now I understand.” She dropped her gaze back to her hands.

“Understand what?”

“Why you’re so…. brooding and always pissy. I would be too if I was forced to watch the ones I cared about age and die while I didn’t.”

Geralt said nothing. His eyes fell to the floor.

“I learned my lesson after a few decades passed. That’s why I decided to become allies with the Hellcats. Mages age slowly.”

Romina said nothing in reply. She didn’t know what to say. She looked around the room, her eyes falling on the clock in the kitchen. It was nearly midnight.

“You think Tissaia is going to be mad that I got assholey earlier? What will she do when I go back tomorrow?”

“She won’t be mad at you. She’s been teaching mages for decades. She has more patience than what most give her credit for. When mages are young, they make mistakes and learn from them. That’s how it’s always been. You’re no different.”

Romina nodded her head.

“I’m tired. I’ve had a couple pretty shitty days.” She pushed herself to her feet. “Are you staying?”

“I’ll be outside.” He stood up too and whistled once, making Roach jump off the couch.

“You don’t have to go sit out there in your truck all night.” Romina shook her head. “I don’t mind you staying in here. I know you probably won’t sleep but you can chill out around here.” She gestured to her living room and kitchen. “There’s tv if you want to keep yourself occupied.”

“I don’t watch television.”

“Of course you don’t.” She sighed out. “Well, the offer is still there. Stay up here. Or don’t. I don’t care. I’m going to bed.”

***

_The Next Morning_

As Romina made her way out of her room, she slipped on her oversized denim jacket.

Geralt sat on the end of the sofa where he had been last night with his eyes closed.

Thinking he was asleep, Romina took quiet steps across the living room to get to the kitchen. She carried her combat boots in her hand. They were placed on a chair at the table before she went to start making coffee. Once the pot was set and brewing fresh coffee, she went to the table to put her boots on.

“Where are you going?”

Romina jumped, putting her hand over her heart as she looked across the room to the Witcher.

“Did I wake you?”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Your eyes were closed.”

“Meditating. Where are you going?”

“Nosy much?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Seems how you don’t have a vehicle and I’m babysitting you, I sort of need to know.”

It was Romina’s turn to roll her eyes.

“I want to go to Aretuza. I need to learn how to use my magic-or whatever the hell it is that makes mirrors shake and people die when I touch them.”

Geralt watched her stand from the table, having just tied her boots on. She was dressed in a pair of black high-waisted skinny jeans and a gray tank top with a denim jacket that seemed a couple sizes too big for her. Her brunette hair was gathered in a very messy bun on the top of her head. Pieces fell out and down around her face.

She went over to the cabinet by the coffee pot and pulled out a to-go cup.

“Do you want any coffee?” She asked without looking to him.

“No.” He answered as he rose to his feet. “I’ll be out in my truck.”

***

Something shiny in the corner of her eyes caught Romina’s attention. She turned her head to look at Geralt. It was the silver medallion he wore around his neck. The sun was reflecting off of it and shining into her eyes. She saw it once before when he’d taken his leather jacket off but he was quick to tuck the metal into his shirt.

Without asking, she reached over and picked up the pendant to examine it closer. He looked down at her hand and then briefly over to her, alarmed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as she touched the wolf pendant.

“What’s this for?” She curiously asked.

“Every Witcher has one.” He took the wolf pendant from her and tucked it into the collar of his black shirt.

“Why?”

“It’s from their time at Kaer Morhen.”

“What is that place? I’ve heard you mention it before.”

“You ask too many questions.”

“Cause I don’t know a lot about this.” Romina turned her head to look out of the passenger window. “It’s like I was in some coma dream and woke up in a new time. All of this shit is new to me.”

Geralt said nothing for a while so she figured he wasn’t going to answer her. She tried to occupy herself, counting cars they passed and searching the sky for any clouds.

“It’s where I did my training.”

Romina looked back to him, staying quiet for a few moments.

“Training? Like military training?”

“Witcher training.”

“You guys had somewhere you went to train other Witchers?” She furrowed her brows together. “I didn’t think…. I thought you guys were just…. just a gang or something.”

“That’s what everyone small-minded thinks.”

“I’m trying to learn more.” She told him, dropping her gaze to her hands. “It’s just hard because everyone gives me short answers or none at all.”

Geralt let out a heavy breath through his nose, shifting a little in his seat.

“Witchers were created to stop monsters. Centuries ago, they lurked everywhere and wreaked havoc. Since Witchers came to be, the monsters have dwindled. But since there are no more Witchers being created and our numbers are declining every day, the number of monsters is slowly increasing. Outside the walls of Cintra is more dangerous now than it has been in decades.”

“Being created?” She repeated quietly. “What does that mean?”

“You don’t know a damn thing about anything, do you?” He was growing irritated with her questions, with how invasive she was being. He knew she meant no harm and she was only curious, but he wasn’t willing to talk about his history. “Your own father was a Witcher.”

Romina fell silent. She could sense his agitation. His hostility was sharp and bitter.

Geralt looked to her, wanting to see why she stopped talking. Her eyes were focused on the road ahead. She messed with her fingers in her lap.

***

As soon as Geralt had put the truck into park behind Aretuza, Romina was unbuckling and getting out of the truck. The Witcher felt a little guilty for what he said. He knew she didn’t have a relationship with her father.

“Romina.”

“What?” She stopped herself from closing the door and looked at him.

“I…. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” She shook her head, closing the door roughly.

***

Romina knocked on the opened door to Tissaia’s office. The Rectress lifted her head and put the pen she was holding down.

“I want you to teach me how to be a mage.”

She didn’t speak immediately and instead held Romina’s gaze.

“Come back this evening at 5.”

“I’m here now.”

“I’m not teaching a mage, let alone a Source as unstable and stunted as you, while my bar is filled with civilians.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do for the next six hours?” Romina three her hands in the air.

“That’s for you to figure out yourself, mouse.”

Romina growled in frustration and left the office. She made her way back down the hallway towards the bar.

“Leaving so soon, Romie?” Vilgefortz teased.

“Fuck off.” Romina grunted. Geralt, who’d been sitting at the bar starting a conversation with the mage, sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

“Good luck with that one.” Vilgefortz nodded to Romina as she left through the front doors.

“I’ll need more than luck.”

***

Romina stopped just outside of the bar, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. She didn’t need to be so upset with Tissaia. She understood why the Rectress wanted to wait, she was just frustrated.

“Hi, Romina.”

She turned her head to see Jaskier approaching her. She stiffened up, crossing her arms.

“Jaskier.”

“Can we, erm, can we just have a little chat?” He motioned to the bar.

“There’s not much for us to talk about.”

“There is, actually. Just give me a chance to explain myself, please.” Jaskier begged, stepping towards her. “Please, Romina.”

She gazed at him, locking her jaw tightly. She felt betrayed by him, by the only person she deemed a true, honest friend in Cintra.

“You lied to me, Jaskier. There’s not much else to explain.”

“I did what I had to do-,” He stopped himself as a group of people passed them. He didn’t want outsiders to hear their conversation. “Romina, please.”

She sighed heavily, annoyed, and moved to go back into Aretuza. She had nothing better to do for the rest of the day, so why not listen to the man’s excuse. 

The two settled in a booth in one of the front corners of the bar.

“I didn’t lie to you about anything except that I work for Tissaia.”

“Our whole friendship is based on a lie, Jaskier.”

“No, it’s not, love.” He shook his head firmly. “I consider you a great friend. You were like-like a breath of fresh air in this hell hole.” He glanced around the room.

“Are you a mage too?” Romina placed her hands in her lap.

“Gods no.” He chuckled. “I just sort of run around doing this and that.”

“Do you even go to college?”

“Yes, I do.” He smiled a little. “I am a theater major. And sometimes, I sing here at the bar. People love me.”

Romina’s brown eyes lingered on him for a few moments before she looked out of the window.

“I don’t know who I can and can’t trust anymore.”

“I know this is all difficult for you, love.” Jaskier moved to sit in the booth next to her. “But just know that I’m here for you.“

His words were only a little comforting to her.

***

Romina stepped into the bar with Jaskier right beside her. They’d spent the whole day wandering around the city nearby Aretuza, wanting to stay busy until the bar closed for a couple hours before the evening crowd.

Vilgefortz and Triss sat at a table in the center of the bar. Geralt and Yennefer were at the bar. Sabrina and Tissaia were just entering the bar from the back hallway.

Romina met Tissaia’s gaze. The Rectress tilted her chin up just a little.

“Have a seat, mouse.”

Romina wished that the woman would call her by her name. It irritated her to be called a mouse, but she was sure Tissaia knew this.

Jaskier moved to sit beside Yennefer and Geralt.

Romina went to sit at the table in front of Tissaia. The Rectress waved her hand over the table. A bundle of yellow daisies formed on the wooden top.

“Turn these flowers into a bird.” Tissaia ordered. Romina furrowed her eyebrows together.

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“Concentrate. Focus your energy into what you want to happen.” Tissaia simply looked at the flowers and they turned into a yellow canary right in front of Romina’s eyes. With a simple snap of her fingers, the bird exploded and flower petals seemed to emerge from the creature.

Romina was captivated by what the Rectress had just done, though her stomach did hurt.

“Your turn.” Tissaia made the flowers reappear on the table.

Romina took a slow deep breath and looked down at the daisies. She pushed all of her concentration to the front of her mind, chanting in her head what she wanted to happen. _Turn the flowers into a bird. Turn the flowers into a bird. Turn the flowers into a bird._

The flowers seemed to tremble slightly before they formed into a little yellow canary. Excited and proud of herself, Romina laughed. But then she felt an aching pain in her left hand. It felt as though someone was scraping the bones in her hand. She looked down to see her skin turning gray.

An audible gasp escaped her lips and she brought her other hand up to touch the mutated skin of her hand. It was cold and hard. She was turning to stone. While her mind told her to panic, to scream and even cry, she couldn’t find her voice. Her heart hammered in her chest and breathing was difficult, but she maintained her composure. Without even thinking, she placed her right hand over her left one. Her lips moved but she wasn’t sure what she said. Her left hand began to turn back to its normal color and the pain went away.

Tissaia had watched Romina’s reaction and saw the way she muttered something under her breath. She wasn’t able to catch what the young woman said.

Romina moved her fingers, flexing them and turning her hand over to inspect it. When she was sure everything was back to normal, she looked up to Tissaia.

“Does that always happen?” Her voice was quiet.

“Not if you know how to balance your chaos. What did you say to reverse what was happening?”

“I-I don’t know.” Romina admitted, racking her brain for an answer. She didn’t remember saying anything.

Tissaia looked over to Geralt, who’d been watching Romina carefully. The Witcher met the Rectress’ gaze but said nothing.

“Why did that happen?” Romina asked.

“Magic is organized chaos.” Tissaia answered. “There are two things required for magic. Balance and control. Your control is extraordinary. I’ve never seen anything like it in my years.”

“How is my control extraordinary if I killed someone without meaning to?”

“That was the Source in you emerging for a split second to protect you. Call it self-preservation. Your balance, however, is horrendous. You allow yourself to be dictated by your emotions.”

“Do not.” Romina muttered under her breath.

“Last night you stomped out of here like a child throwing a tantrum. I want you to start meditating, little mouse.”

“What’s that supposed to do?”

“It will help you focus on self-control.”

“But you just said my control was great.”

“The control you have over you Chaos is outstanding, but your control over your temper and your actions isn’t the greatest. A mage must be calm and collected at all times. However you aren’t any ordinary mage. You are a Source. You must be the best of any mage on the Continent.”

“If you play your cards correctly, you could easily move up in ranks.” Vilgefortz told her. 

“What does that mean?”

“Instead of being a bartender here, you could be something more.” Yennefer butted in.

“Calanthe could take an interest in you. She’s expressed concern over your training already.” Tissaia said. “Now, let’s work on your telepathy.”


	7. Six

Romina folded her arms beneath her chest, her eyes finding the brown husky sitting in the passenger seat of the truck. Roach barked once, alerting Geralt of Romina. He lifted his head. His golden eyes followed her as she walked around the front of his truck to get to the driver’s side door. He rolled the window down, sighing quietly.

“Thought Tissaia would’ve gotten the hint that I don’t want to be followed.” Romina stood a few feet from the door, looking in at the Witcher.

“Tissaia didn’t send me.” Geralt turned his head to look ahead of his truck. “Three cars in front of me is a police car. They’re here to watch you, just as I.”

“Why?” Romina turned her head to look in the same direction as him but he stopped her.

“Don’t look at them.”

Romina shuffled closer to the truck, suddenly feeling nauseous at the thought of the cops watching her.

“Are they Suns?” She quietly asked, leaning against the door. Geralt nodded once. “And you…. You’re here because they’re here?”

“I’m here because you’re clueless to everything that goes on around you.” His words were harsh but he didn’t feel bad for saying what needed to be said. “Every time that I haven’t been with you for the last week, you’ve been attacked.”

“There…. There was only that one time when you were shot.”

“And when we met. I was told by a friend that she saw you get stuffed into a trunk.”

Romina took a soft deep breath through her nose, her eyes carefully watching him.

“How long have you been following me?” She wasn’t too sure she wanted to know the answer to that. While part of her brain was telling her that this man that she barely following her and practically stalking her sounded like something straight out of a horror movie, another part of her brain was telling her that he could be trusted. Geralt was keeping her safe. He’d proven that time and time again.

“Long enough to know that you can’t protect yourself.”

“Then teach me.”

Geralt drew his brows together.

“Teach you?”

“Yeah.” Romina nodded. “Teach me to protect myself. Maybe then you can stop following me.”

He sighed out and looked over to Roach, who was watching Romina. Her tongue was hanging out as she panted softly.

“Fine-,”

“Great! Let’s go.” Romina turned to go back to her apartment.

“Right now?”

She didn’t answer him but gave him a thumb’s up as she crossed the road.

The Witcher looked down and sighed.

“Fuck.”

***

He closed the door to Romina’s apartment behind himself. Roach busied herself with sniffing around the apartment.

“Have you ever taught someone to fight before?” Romina turned to face him.

“Yes.”

“Where did you learn?”

“Kaer Morhen.”

“I’ve heard of that place. What is it?”

“If you’re going to ask questions all night, how do you expect to learn to fight for yourself?”

Romina rolled her eyes. She rolled her head from side to side and shook out her hands.

“Where do we start?”

Geralt watched her for a few moments, studying her carefully. He tucked a few pieces of white hair behind his ear and motioned for her to approach him.

“Come here.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Why do I need to be so close to you?” Romina muttered as she shuffled forward a little.

“I’m hoping that if you’re as far away from an assailant as you are to me, you’ll do the smart thing and run.”

She took a few more steps towards him until the toe of her boots were just a few inches from his much larger ones.

“You know, you don’t talk much but when you do, it’s all just a bunch of sassy remarks and bullshit no one asked-,”

A high pitched yelp escaped Romina’s lips as Geralt knocked his boot against the inside of her knee, pushing her leg out from underneath her. She stumbled and would’ve hit the ground had he not grabbed her arm.

“You talk too much.” He mumbled, releasing her only once he was sure she was steady on her feet. “Are you actually going to listen to me or are you going to talk back the entire night?”

Romina crossed her arms and huffed. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought it would be.

***

Romina hit the floor of her living room with a thud, the air escaping her lungs. Geralt knelt down over her, his knee carefully resting just below her rib cage. He wasn’t applying all of his weight to that area, but he was making sure that she couldn’t easily get up.

His hand grabbed for her wrist, effectively securing one to the floor by her head. He paused, looking down at her just to make sure he wasn’t hurting her.

“You’re heavy.” She tried to shift a little but he didn’t allow it.

“You’re full of complaints. What’s your next move?”

“Like I’d tell you.” She grunted. Using her free hand, she grabbed for his hand pinning her other hand to the floor. She tugged at the sleeve of his long sleeve and even tried to hit his arm to loosen his grip on her.

She growled in frustration. Her heart thumped in her chest and breathing was difficult, not because of Geralt’s knee practically being pressed to her sternum, but because she struggled to keep up with his fast pace. He hadn’t been taking it easy on her.

“Hit my elbow with the heel of your palm.” He offered the advice in a quiet voice. Romina’s eyes flickered up to look at his arm. She looked back to him to see if he was tricking her. “Do it.”

She brought her bottom lip between her teeth. She did as he told. The heel of her palm collided with his elbow. He didn’t budge.

“You asshole.” She muttered.

“You have to hit me harder than that.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Don’t be afraid of that. Just do it.”

Romina gritted her teeth together. She hit his elbow one more time, knocking it out of place.

Sensing her annoyance and anger, Geralt let her go and moved to stand up. He held his hand out for her.

“You’re a shitty teacher.”

“You’re a shitty student.” He countered, effortlessly pulling her to her feet.

“Am not!”

“You’re a shitty student because you’re afraid to hurt me. You think the Black Sun is going to be easy if they get their hands on you like they almost did last night? Cahir may be your uncle but he’s proven before that he doesn’t care if you’re hurt by his people.”

Romina crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“You’re still a shitty teacher.” She muttered. He rolled his eyes at her and shook his head. “You’re beating the shit out of me.”

“I haven’t hit you once.”

“No, but you’ve pinned me at least a dozen times!”

“Because you aren’t focusing. You’re distracted.” He moved to sit on the edge of the sofa next to Roach.

“No, I’m not.” Romina threw herself down into a chair.

“Your mind isn’t here, it’s elsewhere. You think things will come to you naturally, but in order for that to happen, you need to be disciplined.”

Romina sat up, rubbing her face with her hands. She rested her elbows on her knees and exhaled heavily.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for it-,”

“I’m not apologizing for being a shitty student. I’m apologizing for being an ass today.”

“I don’t want an apology.” Geralt shook his head gently. He sat down on the edge of the sofa next to Roach.

“I was an asshole to you. I yelled at you.”

“I’ve had many do worse.” He looked over to Roach.

Romina watched him for a few moments.

“What was bothering you earlier today?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“Well, if you get to know everything about my life, why can’t I know at least something about yours?” Romina stood up and moved to go to the kitchen.

He didn’t answer her.

“I didn’t know you and Yennefer dated.”

“We didn’t.” He huffed.

“She’s cute and super scary. Fits you.” She pulled two water bottles from the fridge and passed him one as she returned to her chair.

“We couldn’t be anymore ill-suited for each other.” He glanced down at the label to the water.

Romina watched him for a few moments before she dropped her sight down to her hands.

“I’m stuck in this, aren’t I?” She hesitated to look back up at him. His golden eyes met hers.

“In Aretuza?”

She nodded her head.

“I’m afraid so.”

Romina sighed gently, leaning back in her seat.

“I don’t want to be clueless. To be…. To be the one who knows nothing. It makes me feel stupid and I look like an ass.”

“Your life has been turned upside down, Romina. It’s been less than a week. You’ll learn eventually.”

“What’s Blaviken?”

Her question caught him off guard. He glanced to her out of the corner of his eyes.

“It’s on your jacket.” She nodded to the leather jacket he’d thrown across the back of a chair in the kitchen.

Geralt ran a hand over his jaw and leaned back, sinking into the sofa. Roach moved to rest her head on his thigh.

“It was a bar.”

“Was? What happened to it?”

“Burned down six decades ago.”

Romina nodded her head softly. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes flickering around the room.

“What makes you the Butcher of Blaviken?”

Sensing his hesitation, she immediately started to back track.

“You don’t have to tell me. I-I know everyone has…. everyone has things they don’t care to talk about.”

Geralt debated on telling her, his hand gently brushed over Roach’s head. He didn’t have to answer any of her questions technically. He didn’t have to tell her anything. His only job was to make sure she stayed alive. 

“Seventy years ago, it was attacked. Forty-eight men died. Seventeen were Witchers.”

“How many survived?”

“Just two.” He paused for a moment, his hand stilling on Roach’s head. “Myself and Barrett.”

Romina inhaled softly, her brows drawing together.

“You knew my father?” She asked quietly. Geralt nodded his head once. “You never acted like you knew him.”

The white haired man said nothing.

“What was he like?”

“What do you remember about him?” Geralt countered.

Romina looked down at her hands, messing with her nails.

“He was always…. He was always smiling.” The corners of her lips turned up just a little. “He always had such great stories to tell. I’d only see him on my birthday but we’d stay up in the living room and he’d tell me stories of everywhere he had been. I never understood why he stayed away.”

“Witchers aren’t supposed to have families. It’s against our code.” Geralt stretched one arm across the back of the sofa.

“That sounds like a very lonely lifestyle.” Romina murmured, looking up at him through her dark lashes. He met her eyes, finding himself lost in her chocolate gaze.

“It can be, but one learns to suffice with the life he’s given. Barrett loved your mother. His loyalty to her was the only thing more powerful than his loyalty to our guild.”

She fell silent for a few moments.

“So if you…. if you became the Butcher of Blaviken seventy years ago…. How old are you?”

“I stopped counting after it got into the triple digits.”

Romina furrowed her brows together gazing at the man sitting across from her, confused.

“Surprised?”

“You don’t…. You don’t look old.”

“Witchers don’t age.”

“So not only are you a part of a group that hunts monsters, but you also can’t have a family and you can’t age?”

He nodded stiffly.

“Now I understand.” She dropped her gaze back to her hands.

“Understand what?”

“Why you’re so…. brooding and always pissy. I would be too if I was forced to watch the ones I cared about age and die while I didn’t.”

Geralt said nothing. His eyes fell to the floor.

“I learned my lesson after a few decades passed. That’s why I decided to become allies with the Hellcats. Mages age slowly.”

Romina said nothing in reply. She didn’t know what to say. She looked around the room, her eyes falling on the clock in the kitchen. It was nearly midnight.

“You think Tissaia is going to be mad that I got assholey earlier? What will she do when I go back tomorrow?”

“She won’t be mad at you. She’s been teaching mages for decades. She has more patience than what most give her credit for. When mages are young, they make mistakes and learn from them. That’s how it’s always been. You’re no different.”

Romina nodded her head.

“I’m tired. I’ve had a couple pretty shitty days.” She pushed herself to her feet. “Are you staying?”

“I’ll be outside.” He stood up too and whistled once, making Roach jump off the couch.

“You don’t have to go sit out there in your truck all night.” Romina shook her head. “I don’t mind you staying in here. I know you probably won’t sleep but you can chill out around here.” She gestured to her living room and kitchen. “There’s tv if you want to keep yourself occupied.”

“I don’t watch television.”

“Of course you don’t.” She sighed out. “Well, the offer is still there. Stay up here. Or don’t. I don’t care. I’m going to bed.”

***

_The Next Morning_

As Romina made her way out of her room, she slipped on her oversized denim jacket.

Geralt sat on the end of the sofa where he had been last night with his eyes closed.

Thinking he was asleep, Romina took quiet steps across the living room to get to the kitchen. She carried her combat boots in her hand. They were placed on a chair at the table before she went to start making coffee. Once the pot was set and brewing fresh coffee, she went to the table to put her boots on.

“Where are you going?”

Romina jumped, putting her hand over her heart as she looked across the room to the Witcher.

“Did I wake you?”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Your eyes were closed.”

“Meditating. Where are you going?”

“Nosy much?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Seems how you don’t have a vehicle and I’m babysitting you, I sort of need to know.”

It was Romina’s turn to roll her eyes.

“I want to go to Aretuza. I need to learn how to use my magic-or whatever the hell it is that makes mirrors shake and people die when I touch them.”

Geralt watched her stand from the table, having just tied her boots on. She was dressed in a pair of black high-waisted skinny jeans and a gray tank top with a denim jacket that seemed a couple sizes too big for her. Her brunette hair was gathered in a very messy bun on the top of her head. Pieces fell out and down around her face.

She went over to the cabinet by the coffee pot and pulled out a to-go cup.

“Do you want any coffee?” She asked without looking to him.

“No.” He answered as he rose to his feet. “I’ll be out in my truck.”

***

Something shiny in the corner of her eyes caught Romina’s attention. She turned her head to look at Geralt. It was the silver medallion he wore around his neck. The sun was reflecting off of it and shining into her eyes. She saw it once before when he’d taken his leather jacket off but he was quick to tuck the metal into his shirt.

Without asking, she reached over and picked up the pendant to examine it closer. He looked down at her hand and then briefly over to her, alarmed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as she touched the wolf pendant.

“What’s this for?” She curiously asked.

“Every Witcher has one.” He took the wolf pendant from her and tucked it into the collar of his black shirt.

“Why?”

“It’s from their time at Kaer Morhen.”

“What is that place? I’ve heard you mention it before.”

“You ask too many questions.”

“Cause I don’t know a lot about this.” Romina turned her head to look out of the passenger window. “It’s like I was in some coma dream and woke up in a new time. All of this shit is new to me.”

Geralt said nothing for a while so she figured he wasn’t going to answer her. She tried to occupy herself, counting cars they passed and searching the sky for any clouds.

“It’s where I did my training.”

Romina looked back to him, staying quiet for a few moments.

“Training? Like military training?”

“Witcher training.”

“You guys had somewhere you went to train other Witchers?” She furrowed her brows together. “I didn’t think…. I thought you guys were just…. just a gang or something.”

“That’s what everyone small-minded thinks.”

“I’m trying to learn more.” She told him, dropping her gaze to her hands. “It’s just hard because everyone gives me short answers or none at all.”

Geralt let out a heavy breath through his nose, shifting a little in his seat.

“Witchers were created to stop monsters. Centuries ago, they lurked everywhere and wreaked havoc. Since Witchers came to be, the monsters have dwindled. But since there are no more Witchers being created and our numbers are declining every day, the number of monsters is slowly increasing. Outside the walls of Cintra is more dangerous now than it has been in decades.”

“Being created?” She repeated quietly. “What does that mean?”

“You don’t know a damn thing about anything, do you?” He was growing irritated with her questions, with how invasive she was being. He knew she meant no harm and she was only curious, but he wasn’t willing to talk about his history. “Your own father was a Witcher.”

Romina fell silent. She could sense his agitation. His hostility was sharp and bitter.

Geralt looked to her, wanting to see why she stopped talking. Her eyes were focused on the road ahead. She messed with her fingers in her lap.

***

As soon as Geralt had put the truck into park behind Aretuza, Romina was unbuckling and getting out of the truck. The Witcher felt a little guilty for what he said. He knew she didn’t have a relationship with her father.

“Romina.”

“What?” She stopped herself from closing the door and looked at him.

“I…. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” She shook her head, closing the door roughly.

***

Romina knocked on the opened door to Tissaia’s office. The Rectress lifted her head and put the pen she was holding down.

“I want you to teach me how to be a mage.”

She didn’t speak immediately and instead held Romina’s gaze.

“Come back this evening at 5.”

“I’m here now.”

“I’m not teaching a mage, let alone a Source as unstable and stunted as you, while my bar is filled with civilians.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do for the next six hours?” Romina three her hands in the air.

“That’s for you to figure out yourself, mouse.”

Romina growled in frustration and left the office. She made her way back down the hallway towards the bar.

“Leaving so soon, Romie?” Vilgefortz teased.

“Fuck off.” Romina grunted. Geralt, who’d been sitting at the bar starting a conversation with the mage, sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

“Good luck with that one.” Vilgefortz nodded to Romina as she left through the front doors.

“I’ll need more than luck.”

***

Romina stopped just outside of the bar, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. She didn’t need to be so upset with Tissaia. She understood why the Rectress wanted to wait, she was just frustrated.

“Hi, Romina.”

She turned her head to see Jaskier approaching her. She stiffened up, crossing her arms.

“Jaskier.”

“Can we, erm, can we just have a little chat?” He motioned to the bar.

“There’s not much for us to talk about.”

“There is, actually. Just give me a chance to explain myself, please.” Jaskier begged, stepping towards her. “Please, Romina.”

She gazed at him, locking her jaw tightly. She felt betrayed by him, by the only person she deemed a true, honest friend in Cintra.

“You lied to me, Jaskier. There’s not much else to explain.”

“I did what I had to do-,” He stopped himself as a group of people passed them. He didn’t want outsiders to hear their conversation. “Romina, please.”

She sighed heavily, annoyed, and moved to go back into Aretuza. She had nothing better to do for the rest of the day, so why not listen to the man’s excuse. 

The two settled in a booth in one of the front corners of the bar.

“I didn’t lie to you about anything except that I work for Tissaia.”

“Our whole friendship is based on a lie, Jaskier.”

“No, it’s not, love.” He shook his head firmly. “I consider you a great friend. You were like-like a breath of fresh air in this hell hole.” He glanced around the room.

“Are you a mage too?” Romina placed her hands in her lap.

“Gods no.” He chuckled. “I just sort of run around doing this and that.”

“Do you even go to college?”

“Yes, I do.” He smiled a little. “I am a theater major. And sometimes, I sing here at the bar. People love me.”

Romina’s brown eyes lingered on him for a few moments before she looked out of the window.

“I don’t know who I can and can’t trust anymore.”

“I know this is all difficult for you, love.” Jaskier moved to sit in the booth next to her. “But just know that I’m here for you.“

His words were only a little comforting to her.

***

Romina stepped into the bar with Jaskier right beside her. They’d spent the whole day wandering around the city nearby Aretuza, wanting to stay busy until the bar closed for a couple hours before the evening crowd.

Vilgefortz and Triss sat at a table in the center of the bar. Geralt and Yennefer were at the bar. Sabrina and Tissaia were just entering the bar from the back hallway.

Romina met Tissaia’s gaze. The Rectress tilted her chin up just a little.

“Have a seat, mouse.”

Romina wished that the woman would call her by her name. It irritated her to be called a mouse, but she was sure Tissaia knew this.

Jaskier moved to sit beside Yennefer and Geralt.

Romina went to sit at the table in front of Tissaia. The Rectress waved her hand over the table. A bundle of yellow daisies formed on the wooden top.

“Turn these flowers into a bird.” Tissaia ordered. Romina furrowed her eyebrows together.

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“Concentrate. Focus your energy into what you want to happen.” Tissaia simply looked at the flowers and they turned into a yellow canary right in front of Romina’s eyes. With a simple snap of her fingers, the bird exploded and flower petals seemed to emerge from the creature.

Romina was captivated by what the Rectress had just done, though her stomach did hurt.

“Your turn.” Tissaia made the flowers reappear on the table.

Romina took a slow deep breath and looked down at the daisies. She pushed all of her concentration to the front of her mind, chanting in her head what she wanted to happen. _Turn the flowers into a bird. Turn the flowers into a bird. Turn the flowers into a bird._

The flowers seemed to tremble slightly before they formed into a little yellow canary. Excited and proud of herself, Romina laughed. But then she felt an aching pain in her left hand. It felt as though someone was scraping the bones in her hand. She looked down to see her skin turning gray.

An audible gasp escaped her lips and she brought her other hand up to touch the mutated skin of her hand. It was cold and hard. She was turning to stone. While her mind told her to panic, to scream and even cry, she couldn’t find her voice. Her heart hammered in her chest and breathing was difficult, but she maintained her composure. Without even thinking, she placed her right hand over her left one. Her lips moved but she wasn’t sure what she said. Her left hand began to turn back to its normal color and the pain went away.

Tissaia had watched Romina’s reaction and saw the way she muttered something under her breath. She wasn’t able to catch what the young woman said.

Romina moved her fingers, flexing them and turning her hand over to inspect it. When she was sure everything was back to normal, she looked up to Tissaia.

“Does that always happen?” Her voice was quiet.

“Not if you know how to balance your chaos. What did you say to reverse what was happening?”

“I-I don’t know.” Romina admitted, racking her brain for an answer. She didn’t remember saying anything.

Tissaia looked over to Geralt, who’d been watching Romina carefully. The Witcher met the Rectress’ gaze but said nothing.

“Why did that happen?” Romina asked.

“Magic is organized chaos.” Tissaia answered. “There are two things required for magic. Balance and control. Your control is extraordinary. I’ve never seen anything like it in my years.”

“How is my control extraordinary if I killed someone without meaning to?”

“That was the Source in you emerging for a split second to protect you. Call it self-preservation. Your balance, however, is horrendous. You allow yourself to be dictated by your emotions.”

“Do not.” Romina muttered under her breath.

“Last night you stomped out of here like a child throwing a tantrum. I want you to start meditating, little mouse.”

“What’s that supposed to do?”

“It will help you focus on self-control.”

“But you just said my control was great.”

“The control you have over you Chaos is outstanding, but your control over your temper and your actions isn’t the greatest. A mage must be calm and collected at all times. However you aren’t any ordinary mage. You are a Source. You must be the best of any mage on the Continent.”

“If you play your cards correctly, you could easily move up in ranks.” Vilgefortz told her. 

“What does that mean?”

“Instead of being a bartender here, you could be something more.” Yennefer butted in.

“Calanthe could take an interest in you. She’s expressed concern over your training already.” Tissaia said. “Now, let’s work on your telepathy.”


End file.
